A Whistle on the Wind
by Onion'n'Pitta
Summary: Transported back over 1,500 years into the past, how can a modern girl learn how she came to be there and how to get back home, or will she eventually find that home there? ... But not before she possibly changes the course of history and the mythical story behind the great King Arthur and his Sarmatian Knights...Tristan/OC AU-All knights alive
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

"We are almost there! Hadrian's Wall should be just over the next hill," claimed Ysmay excitedly to the back of the wagon as she bounced on the tops of her toes, leaning over her father and brother, causing the entire wagon to jostle at her energetic movements.

"Hush child, I think we can see that for ourselves," the girl's mother Rhiannon chided good naturedly at her daughter's enthusiasm, "and you should have no fear my dear," she continued, but her voice hushed, as she wrapped her left arm around the other young woman sitting tensely next to her, "no one will notice you and you shall fit in seamlessly…that is unless of course you don't want them to," she added quietly with a fond smile.

Willow turned and gave the woman an incredulous look, "what's that supposed to mean?" she asked raising an eyebrow to the women she considered to be like a second mother.

"Well, just that you are always tense when we move on to a new town, always worried that you will be noticed as different and odd and yet every time you also always enjoy the crowd's attention and applause," Rhiannon answered.

"Wh-"

"I'm not saying that you deliberately seek it, but rather that you can't help but be noticed once you begin to play," she added hastily before Willow managed a reply.

"She speaks the truth, my dear, I'm sorry but you should remember that there is nothing to be worried about. We all love it when you become comfortable enough to engage with the audience," Aiden agreed from the front of the wagon.

"Yeah, we love it when you play and dance at the same time," Rowan commented as well, not wanting to be left out of the conversation between his parents and Willow.

She watched the travelling family pensively for a while; fourteen year old Ysmay as she vigorous searched over the shoulders of her father and younger brother as she tried to be the first to glimpse their destination, Rhiannon who sat beside her quietly; repairing one of the many holes that littered Rowan's clothing. Aiden as he patiently drove on the two horses with his daughter practically hanging over him and finally the loveable nine year old Rowan who was, in turn, looking back at Willow with the same warm smile he had given her since she has met them all a year and a half ago on the bleak dales of Yorkshire. She smiled to herself, thinking of the looks they must have had on their faces as they came across an unconscious girl in strange men's clothing and carrying a strange bright red and black satchel on her back in the middle of nowhere. She patted her trusty hiking backpack and thanked her lucky stars again that it had been Aiden and Rhiannon who had found her alone and unconscious in the mysterious fog and not some ruthless people who would have taken advantage over her in an instant.

It was that strange fog which had not only made her trip and fall; hitting her head on a rock, but had also managed to transport her to the Dark Ages from the 21st Century. Before then, Willow had merely been trying to do the right thing in attempting to find and comfort her housemate Becky, who had managed to argue with her boyfriend Mike over nothing and storm off into the bleak night alone. In Becky's usual style, this happened to be at the most inconvenient time when all of them, including Mike's friend Dylan, had had to share a tent for the night during their camping trip across the Dales. Willow had not even initially wanted to go on the proposed camping trip; she had never considered herself close to her housemate enough to go on holiday with her. But after having worked as a waitress with Becky for six months solidly at the same small and shitty restaurant, where she had initially been promised the position of sous-chef after two, she felt she had deserved a break. Plus the added bonus of Mike's cute friend Dylan had only increased Willow's resolve to get out of the city and enjoy herself. After four years at university studying the culinary arts, as her professors had elaborately called learning fancy cooking, and a substantial student debt, indulgences were a rare occurrence for Willow. Meditating on that thought longer, Willow considered that her life had been, for a long time, one scarce of luxury. The only time she could recall having some idea of happiness had been the short years she had lived with her elderly grandfather after her parents had died in a car accident. Between the ages of seven and thirteen, Willow could recall some, if not all, of her happiest memories being due to her grandfather, such as his tutelage with his old Irish tin whistle and horse riding lessons he had gotten for her after seeing her awe of the creatures when out walking his dogs through the nearby fields during her first summer living with him.

However like most good things she had come to realise, this too came to an end when her grandfather had died unexpectedly of cancer when she was thirteen. She, with no known family, was shipped off to a children's home and it marked an abrupt end to her happiness and miserable beginning to what followed. The events that happened during her time at the children's home still caused her some nightmares and her scar to prickle uncomfortably if remembered. But Willow fervently tried to forget those memories and recall her time with her grandfather. She fought hard to repress the pain and suffering of the years that had followed his death, though she did remember some nicer memories of the other children at the home and tried to recollect them in addition to her earlier ones.

"I see it! I can see the fort, the wall - everything!" Ysmay cried.

The young girl's excited yell brought back Willow from her reverie of her life before the fog. She looked around and found that even the normally quiet and refined Rhiannon had gotten up to catch a glimpse of the famed Hadrian's Wall. She, on the other hand, fought the urge to also look over Aiden and Rowan's shoulders. Although she did have her usual worries of her difference being noticed, another thought made herself hold back. Hadrian's Wall was the base of the newly crowned King Arthur and his infamous Sarmatian Knights. Willow had to admit that she wanted to take in everything and experience everything that history had held in mystery for thousands of years but the logical side of her brain had alerted her to a very important fact: she was in the past and she had the problem and potential of unwittingly changing the future and Hadrian's Wall and King Arthur, to her, was a big messy future-altering area of disaster just waiting to happen. However the recent marriage of Arthur to Guinevere and the prospect of work and money for the family had been too important to miss out on. As Troubadours, or as Willow understood them to be - travelling musicians, the streets of rejoicing people would have the ability to potentially pay for the family's livelihood until next year.

The serendipity of the situation of Aiden and Rhiannon's discovery of Willow, during their journey from Luguvallium to Ebroacum, or Carlisle and York as Willow worked out, had proved to be mutual. They had taken her with them and grown to love the strange girl who had told them that she was from over a thousand years in the future, which they had never truly believed. But the finding out that Willow could play a musical instrument; the whistle which she had had in her backpack as she never went anywhere without it as it was the only thing left of her grandfathers, had seemed fated. And as a sign of friendship from the family, they had given her the bone flute which their eldest daughter Josselyn had played with them before she had recently married and settled. Willow had quickly picked up the instrument as she had played a similar type during her time at school and found the mechanics very similar to her whistle. She added the flute and whistle to their already impressive musical act as they had travelled from Ebroacum to Lindum and then on to Ratae, or Lincoln and Leicester as Willow had identified them from their locations, before the family had decided to travel back to the north following the victorious outcome of the Battle of Badon Hill. But the road back to the north had not been without its perils. Through too many villages, in Willow's opinion, they had seen the gruesome result and aftermath of Saxon attacks to the extent where Aiden had begun to try and train both his children and Willow with the little he knew of fighting, but that had been limited at best. The sight of Hadrian's Wall was a relief to all of Willow's adopted family and even Willow herself, thought the rational part of her mind had yet to give up dominance of her thoughts.

"Aren't you forgetting something Willow?" Ysmay teased, "Your rag. I still don't get why you have to. You have the nicest hair I've ever seen and yet you always wear that horrible old thing," the tone was of a typically stroppy teenager when they did not like something.

"She does it to protect herself Ysmay, you know that," Rhiannon gently reminded her daughter, "Willow does have very lovely hair but it is because it is so noticeable that she needs to kept it covered and also cover her skin pictures."

Willow hastily placed the 'old rag', as Ysmay fondly referred to it as, over her head and positioned it under her chin, making sure to cover her shoulders so that only her face was displayed. Her hair was the one feature which Willow really liked about herself. Her eyes were a sea blue but Willow thought them to be dull and boring in comparison to the families' dark green eyes and her height at 5ft 3in, she was not, as her namesake would imply willowy in stature. Her hair was a golden honey colour, though it was only striking in the time she found herself in; in her own time her hair would have appeared standard and ordinary among the populace. It fell to the middle of her back in a side parting with her fringe now long enough to be tucked behind her right ear; apparently the native women rarely cut their hair and it had already long to begin with. Now it was kept in a tight bun under the head cloth to avoid any attention. Her colouring; light hair and blue eyes, were a clear sign of her modern-day Anglo-Saxon heritage, something which had yet to occur to the population of the current Britain she was in. Her 'skin pictures' were Rhiannon's name for the tattoos which Willow had on her back and neck. The one on the right of her neck was of a single Japanese cherry blossom. The Japanese idea of ephemeral life had appealed to Willow and had helped her to cope with both her parent's and grandfather's deaths. The other was three lines of text from a poem which had interested Willow the moment she had read it, and was written across her shoulder blades. Each tattoo held a specific meaning to Willow and additionally, the long scar which stretched from her left shoulder down the left side of her body to her hip, also served as a reminder of her life at the children's home.

"Am I covered? Is my necklace out of the way?" she asked Rhiannon.

The necklace, similar to the tin whistle of her grandfathers, was the only item remaining that Willow had of her mother's. It was a small metal ball called a bola on a long piece of chord, which hung down to her stomach. She could remember her mother wearing it when she was a toddler as it was made soothing chiming sounds when she had tried to play with it, her mother had said that she had wore it all through her pregnancy as well so that Willow would have heard it before she was even born. She had chosen to wear the necklace herself ever since she had been given it by her grandfather, adjusting the length of the chord as she had slowly grown taller. Occasionally, when she was younger and walking alone, Willow had closed her eyes and listened to the soft chimes and imagined that the sound was her mother walking alongside her, as she tried to remember what she had looked like.

"Your necklace is fine and your hair is covered, though it is a shame you are unable to show it with pride. Oh, all the lovely braids and designs I could do to it…" Rhiannon cooed. Willow and Ysmay both laughed at her mother and the constant wish she had to style Willow's hair.

"Perhaps one day Rhiannon," Willow offered to her.

"You do my hair mother!" Ysmay said, trying to placate her mother.

"Yes and I do so love to do it. You are a good and patient child for letting have my fun," said Rhiannon as she stroked her daughter's head.

"We are here. Where do you think would be the best place to park the wagon Rhiannon?" Aiden asked from the front, ending the conversation about hair between the women, much to Willow relief.

Willow couldn't believe that she was about to enter the place which later generations would call Camelot. Unable to stop herself she finally had a peek over Aiden's shoulders at the landscape around them. The Wall stretched out across the landscape like a huge stone snake with the fort appearing as a dark and imposing fortress amongst the sea of green grass and yellow fields of the surrounding area. The woodland was dense and ominous to the right of the fort, bathing the area in an early morning mist that could have come out straight out of a fairytale, and over the wall from their high up viewpoint; Willow could see a similar forest that carpeted, without obstruction, the further northern territory beyond the horizon. Even with the early hour, people were walking about and performing their everyday tasks in the constant shadow but security of the great stone keep. Yet still, after observing all this, Willow only hoped that the fort would benefit her family and serve as an interesting diversion for a short while before they eventually moved on; the future and the history of the land unaffected by her presence there. But what Willow did not know was that time, whether it was the past or the future, could be a fickle thing.

* * *

**A/N:** _Hallo! __So this is my first fan-fiction and I hope you enjoyed it. I've always been a lover of fan-fiction but I recently went through a phase of reading as many King Arthur fan-fictions as I could possibly manage without life getting in the way and the idea for this one came into my head and __then refused to leave until I wrote it down. I know and I'm sorry that its the usual modern-girl-goes-back-in-time-yada-yada-yada but I don't care because I personally love them._

_This will eventually be a Tristan/OC although it might take a while to get there but I hope you'll stick with it and enjoy the story's progression. Reviews would be appreciated._

_Cheers _

_Pitta x_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine.

* * *

It had taken longer than they thought it would to gain entry into the fort; the security measures had been increased upon recent rumors of possible Saxon sightings. Not until mid-afternoon did the wagon finally trundle to a stop outside a small wooden cottage, which the family had negotiated with the landlord to serve as their small home for the duration of their stay. Leaping out at the first opportunity from the wagon, Ysmay and Willow both stretched their tired muscles to relieve their cramped positions from sitting for so long. Once Willow heard the satisfying click of her vertebrae as she twisted her back, she enjoyed the easing sensation as she felt her entire body loosen.

"Ewwww, you know it makes that horrible sound when you do that!" Ysmay complained at Willow's actions, but who merely shrugged and answered back by sticking out her tongue. Rhiannon chuckled at the two girl's childish interaction.

"Right, well we had better get on and earn our money for our supper tonight. Willow and Rowan; go and see where the best place to set up will be, while Rhiannon, Ysmay and I will start sorting out the wagon and horses. Tomorrow we'll take them any available stables there are here," Aiden said as he took charge of the situation, as was customary for him every time they arrived in a new location. Laughing at the disgruntled look on his sister's face for having been chosen to stay behind and unpack, Rowan jumped down and grasped Willow's out stretched hand. He skipped off singing, which resulted in Willow being dragged behind him in his eagerness to explore the fort. At a more manageable speed, the two made their way across the market place and were awed at the number of people and objects on sale around them. The fort had become a centre of trade and marketing since the crowning of the King, as it had created a safer place for the traders to operate.

"Look at all this stuff! I don't think I've ever seen so much trading in one place before!" Rowan exclaimed, as he began to pull Willow along behind him and towards every new shiny thing which caught his attention.

"I know, but we need to find a spot for us as well Rowan," Willow reminded, amused at the boy's actions.

"What about over there?" Rowan pointed to a smaller square than that of the markets and contained a number of people walking to and from the market and a tavern across the street. The building opposite the square caught Willow's eye as she looked over at Rowan's suggestion. It appeared very Roman in contrast to the other low lying, thatched structures of the rest of the fort. The intricately patterned columns and bright terracotta tiles gave the building a distinguished and superior air to it and made Willow certain that this could only be the building in which resided the King and his Knights.

'_Jeez, Ostentatious enough?'_ She thought as she contemplated the building some more.

"Isn't it great Willow?"

Rowan dragged her attention back to him. Turning her head round, Willow smiled at the small boy, "we might actually get to see the King and his Knights! I want to be a Knight and ride around on a horse instead of sitting in a boring wagon all the time. And I could fight with a big sword against the Saxons and rescue people in need!" he cried and with that declaration, Rowan drew a pretend sword from his side and held it up at Willow.

"Die evil Saxon!"

"Hey! How come I have to be the evil Saxon, you normally make Ysmay the Saxon and I get to be the fair damsel being rescued," Willow laughed at her little companion, dramatically posing her hand over her forehead.

"Well she's not here so you'll have to do," Rowan sighed in a dishearten tone.

"Wells thanks Rowan, your vote of confidence is overwhelming," Willow replied sarcastically but quickly spun around to face him and similarly pretended to draw a sword and fixed a mocking grin on her face.

"Now prepare to die Knight! For us Saxons shall take this land from under your very nose with our hideous stench and disgustingly huge facial hair," She drawled in a poor imitation of a Saxon accent.

Rowan laughed at her and went to thrust his make believe sword towards Willow. She parried his move and in turn swung her invisible sword back at him. The two continued to play fight until Rowan cheated and grabbed hold of Willow's waist with both arms breathlessly laughing from the battle. Unfortunately for Rowan, used to fighting with him and his expected tactic, Willow simply gripped his own waist and pulled him up over her shoulder into a fireman's lift. His squeal of protest was soon replaced with one of laughter as Willow proceeded to tickle him with both her hands as she held him up on her shoulder. She always enjoyed the innocent fun of Rowan's fighting as it reminded her of the many times she had play fought at the children's home with the younger boys there but they had instead always chosen a pirate as her role as villain in their games. Soon tired from the effort of holding and tickling him, Willow lowered Rowan to the ground much to his protests; he loved that Willow was always more willing to play with him than anyone else. Ysmay was constantly telling him go away and leave her alone but Willow had always tried to make time in whatever she was doing to play with him.

"Come on, we need to get back to the house and tell your Ma and Pa about this place," she told Rowan as he looked at up her with a sulking look as she had finished the fun game. Willow groaned playfully at the boy and bent down to his level to look him directly in the eyes.

"If I give you a piggy-back back to the cottage will you manage to remove that rotten expression from your face?"

The boy instantly grinned at her and held his arms out in expectation. Sighing, Willow turned and allowed the boy to spring up on to her back with ease. For an eight year old Rowan was not very big or heavy and due to her modern day diet of balanced nutrition growing up, Willow was probably stronger than the average Dark Age woman and could easily carry Rowan on her back. Tucking her arms underneath the boy's legs as he wrapped his arms around her neck loosely, she stood up and started back towards his parents and sister. Rowan, content with his place on Willow's back, rested his head on her shoulder, feeling as well as hearing the humming that she always seemed to be doing whenever she wasn't talking, singing or playing her flute or whistle and smiled as he looked around the market again as they made their way back through. Rowan loved the fact that Willow was always making noise; her singing and humming always alerted him to where she was whenever he needed her and comforted him in the knowledge of her endless calming presence. For Willow, she had naturally always made noise, and couldn't remember a time even at the children's home, when she had been quiet. Although the month following her grandfather's death had silenced her for the longest time she had known and she hoped to never have to experience that again. Walking up to the wagon, with Rowan perched on her back, Rhiannon gave her adopted daughter an amused look.

"He got sulky again, didn't he?" she inquired, knowing of her son's affection for Willow's attention.

"No Ma!" Rowan cried from over Willow's shoulder, "Willow was a Saxon and killed me by tickle attack so she had to carry my dead body back," the eight year reasoned seriously with his mother.

"Oh, well in that case, if you are dead than you won't be playing with us. What a shame you killed my son Willow, I rather liked him," Aiden grinned at the pair from behind his wife.

"Wait! I am alive! I can play! I want to play with you all!" Rowan hurriedly yelled and quickly struggled to get down from Willow's back. Laughing she gently placed him on his feet behind her,

"Not before you deafen me Rowan!" she cried at his retreating back, rubbing the ear which he had unknowingly shouted right into in his haste to reply to his father.

"Did you find anywhere?" Aiden inquired after having quickly reassured his son that he did, in fact, know that he was still alive and willing to play with the family.

"We think so, Rowan pointed out a small square near to the market place which would be perfect to play in as many people seem to use it as a route from between the market and the tavern," Willow replied.

"And it's across from the King and Knight's Castle!" Rowan said, thinking that that point of information was as vital to his parents as it was to him.

"Well," Aiden smiled at his son, "you will definitely need to play your best then if there is the possibility of the King and Knight's seeing you play," aware of his son's love for the stories about the great Sarmatian Knight's and their Commander.

"Of course Pa," the boy said in return, "only the best troubadours play for the King so with Willow playing with us they are all bound to come and see us perform," he grinned as he spun around and ran to grab the instruments, certain in his way as most young boys are at the age of eight.

"I'm not the only one playing Rowan!" Willow called after him and felt her cheeks blush in embarrassment.

"You may not be my dear but, dare I say it about my own daughter, you are much better with that flute than Josselyn was and your teaching us the new music has helped our fortunes greatly," Aiden commented, trying to compliment the woman but knew she would never believe him.

"I play just the same as all of you," Willow mumbled into her head cloth, brushing off Aiden compliment. She had found the older instruments they used much harder than those which she had been used you and was awed by the skill each of the family members showed in their chosen instrument and had jumped at the task of learning from them the different instruments, though knew she would never match up to their own skill.

"Yes, but your interaction with the crowd always makes us popular," Rowan responded, walking back, carrying with him the instruments they would be playing for their dinner later on that evening.

Willow chuckled shyly and sighed, "I do enjoy pulling my shapes."

"Ysmay, it's time to go," Aiden called to his daughter, who had been plating Herne, one of the horses' manes, "I don't know how that horse manages to put up with you constantly pulling at his hair."

"Because he's nicer than Varden, as he will only let Willow anyway near him," she remarked to her father as she made her way towards them. She took hold of her father's hand and smiled up at him with a mischievous smile, "besides it's been six months since you said I could have my own pony, after Willow found Varden all alone when those people had left him so I'm afraid that until then I get to practice on Herne."

Aiden could only laugh at his daughter's reply; he was aware that any response from him would keep them there for hours and so looked around to check that they had all they needed for the evening. He motioned for Willow and Rowan to show the way to the chosen spot and the family hurried through the market, eager to begin playing so they could buy their food.

"Here is probably the best spot," Aiden said to his wife next to him as they reached the middle of the left side of the square.

"Aye and there is room enough for the crowd to dance if Willow is able to make them," she replied, grinning at the young woman. The family set up their positions; first, a small wooden stool was placed to the right for Rhiannon to sit on for her harp and on the left for Aiden to play his lute. Rowan stood behind his father with his bodhrán and Ysmay stood behind her mother with her Viol. Willow took the place between the children and smiled at the familiar scene before her. She always enjoyed this part; the anticipation of her family before the first note was played and the expectancy of the crowd who had realised the family's intentions once their instruments were in place for the performance. They had agreed on a lively song that would be appropriate in continuing the jovial spirit of the fort's atmosphere.

"What about 'Haste To The Wedding'? Because of the King and Queen," Rowan asked the gathered musicians. Aiden and Rhiannon smiled at each other as they knew that it was a particular favourite of Willow's, taught to her by her grandfather and never failed to make her encourage the crowd to dance. The family's eyes turned to Willow expectantly after Rowan's suggestion.

"Alright, but only because I'm hungry and I want to have some food soon," She laughed quietly at their hopeful faces turned up at her, "but it does mean that I'll have to us my whistle." Her expression changing to apprehensive as she couldn't help looking around nervously.

"Don't worry about it dear, you have used it before and no one had commented on it. Just tell anyone, if they ask you about it, that your grandfather gave it to you and you don't know where he got it from," Rhiannon answered reassuringly about the historically wrong instrument which Willow knew was not going to be invented for another six hundred years or so. Encouraged by the woman's words, she nodded and from her position moved round to in front of the family, surveying the crowd which stood waiting to hear the music. Smiling at the eagerness on their faces, Willow placed the old and familiar whistle to her lips ready to begin.

* * *

**A/N**: Theres going to be a lot of music throughout this fic as its kind of significant to Willow's character (which also means that you'll learn a lot about my personal taste in music - don't be too harsh about the songs or music choices). When there is a song, it will probably be a particular one which I had in mind while I was writing so I'll put the artist and track in the author's note if anyone is interesting in knowing it (I always like to listen to a song which is mentioned in a story while I read it but that just might be me being a massive nerd :S).

This chapter's and the next one's music (as it overlaps), originally a traditional Irish gig, is The Corrs - Haste to the Wedding.

Oh and to fit in with the modern music, it should be taken that Aiden's lute is essentially a ye olde guitar.

Hope you enjoyed chapter 2!

Pitta x

P.s. I don't have a beta-reader so sorry for any mistakes or hiccups in the writing


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

The high clear note of the whistle made those who had not already noticed the family, turn their heads towards the music. Willow smiled while playing the beginnings of the song, though traditionally started by a violin the family had changed it so that Willow would begin the song. Starting at a slower pace than the original, the building of the tempo soon cued in the rest of the family to the song and the look on the crowds faces never failed to make her smile. Her knowledge of Irish jigs and tunes had been from her grandfather, who had been Irish, and had passionately introduced Willow to the joys of Irish folk music. She, in turn, had imparted this knowledge to the family some time after they had found her and their success with the music had benefited their fortunes greatly. Willow did not know much about the music which they had played before meeting her, but once she had played the family her tin whistle they too had seen the beauty of the music and instantly took it upon themselves to learn all the songs she knew, profiting from the book of jigs and reels that Willow luckily had packed in her hiking bag due to Becky's insistence for her to play while on the camping trip, which now seemed so long ago to her. She had wondered if that would be considered as changing history but she couldn't see anything wrong with introducing the music earlier than it should have been; it just meant it could be enjoyed for longer she reasoned. When she had begun to perform with the family in the cities and towns they stopped in, Willow instantly fitted in with them due to her previous experience at busking; she had done some during her long years at college for a bit of extra money.

Willow turned her head round from her position in front of the others and caught Rhiannon's eye. The older woman smiled and nodded to Willow, after noticing the inactivity of the crowd. With a spin on the balls of her feet, her necklace following her swift movement as if it was almost anticipating the coming dancing, Willow faced the audience and started forward while continuing to play her whistle. Bounding forward in a quick skip, she was soon weaving in and around the observers with unmistakable joy shining in her eyes. This crowd though seemed almost struck still by the young woman's playing and dancing, so Willow had to eventually stop playing the whistle and decided on grabbing a young boy who stood close by and began to dance to the music as Ysmay took over the main melody. Ysmay always enjoyed, like the rest of her family, watching Willow interact with the crowd and trying to make them dance when they first heard the different type of music the family played.

"Follow along if you want!" Willow called out over the music to the rest of the watching audience and began to dance with the young boy she had chosen. He could have only have been ten or so years old but he quickly fell into step with Willow as she twirled them both around the square.

"What's your name?" She asked breathlessly over the music, once she noticed others had begun to imitate her and the boys dancing.

"Lucan," he replied smiling up at her from behind a mass of curling dark blonde hair which bounced about with their lively dance steps, "what's yours?" he asked in return.

"Willow," She smiled back.

"Like the tree?"

"Aye," she laughed, "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to leave now and go back to playing but try and find another partner to dance with, you're pretty good for a first timer."

"Thanks and you play that… whatever it is that you're playing really well," Lucan replied.

"Cheers Lucan and thanks for being such a good partner," and letting go of his hands and with one last smile at the boy, Willow turned back to the family and took up her whistle again, skipping in between the now numerous couples who had taken over most of the small square. After a few more minutes the jig came to an end and Willow could only feel a little grateful as the combination of playing, dancing and wearing the head cloth had made her very hot and her cheeks turn pink. The crowd as one, all turned to the family and applauded loudly and began to place coins into the basket which had been placed in front of Rhiannon and Aiden. Willow was glad that it appeared they would have enough for them all to enjoy a large meal at the tavern soon as she did not fancy cooking that night and was starting to feel hungry.

"Just can't resist, can you?" Ysmay joked, grinning at Willow as she walked over.

"Can you blame me when you always play so badly that I have to distract the crowd," she joked back sarcastically, but hugged her younger friend.

"Well just remember that you taught me most of it," Ysmay teased back.

They both giggled and looked up when Rhiannon called to them.

"We're going to find us some dinner at the tavern. While we're gone why don't you two and Rowan play one of your favourite songs? They don't seem ready to finish yet," she suggested and indicated to the crowd that still stood around the square waiting to see if any more music would be played.

"Okay, we'll come and find you soon though as I think my stomach's going to be making more noise than the music soon," Willow called after her as she walked towards her husband. Rhiannon laughed in return and turned to Aiden as they made their way towards the tavern which Willow had seen earlier.

"Which one should we play?" Ysmay asked the other two as Rowan joined them.

"Maybe 'Trout in the Bath'?" Willow posed.

"Only if you dance again!" Rowan quickly demanded. Willow raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"Really? Can't I sit down for once? I'm getting old you know," she whined and pretended to brace her back as she hunched over.

"But people always like it more when you dance along," he innocently smiled up at her.

"Fine," Willow conceded with a scowl as she straightened up, "but that means I'm getting more dinner than you." The siblings laughed at her as she then pretended to stomp back towards the audience.

"You joining me then?" she called over her shoulder with a smile at the two of them. Ysmay and Rowan quickly picked back up their instruments and waited for Willow to cue them in to begin. A quicker song than the previous, Willow let her fingers glide over the holes in the whistle as she started the fast paced song vigorously. Looking back at her two friends and giving a wink, she set off into the crowd once more, twirling and skipping around the already enthusiastically dancing couples. Happy that she need only observe than join in this time, she let her eyes scan the outer crowd that stood watching the dancers. Noticing Lucan standing on the edge, she skipped over towards him while playing and bent down to wink at him before springing off to continue her dance around the square. There was a group of men who stood behind Lucan who laughed and gave him a nudge at the attention she had given him, causing a blush across his cheeks. She had noted the group before heading over as they looked noticeably different to the rest of the surrounding crowd, not in a way that she was different, but in a darker sense. They appeared not completely comfortable in the setting they found themselves in. By dancing towards Lucan she had gotten a better look at them. There was a very tall man with a shaved head and a large scar running down his left eye, who had his hand placed on Lucan shoulder, possibly his father she thought. The one next to him was younger with curly dark hair and a short beard and was wearing, from what she could see, a kilt. Next to him was a slightly older man with long blonde hair which could have rivalled Willow's in length if hers were worn down.

'_Maybe I don't have to wear this damn rag here then'_, she thought hopefully to herself as she observed his similar hair colour.

Looking back she noticed that the two shorter men had been pulled into the dancing by two women, while Lucan was still stood watching her play as she moved, so was the man behind him. She inclined her head to him as she noticed him watching and received warm smile in return. The smile looked good on his face and made the scar around his eye crinkle a little. It was then that Willow noticed a fourth man to their group. He stood slightly further back; his dark, straggly, braided hair fell over one of his eyes and dark tattoos were etched high on his cheeks. It gave him a mysterious air of detachment and though his face was unreadable; his other visible eye traced every movement that Willow made around the square. She inclined her head to him as well but could not discern a reaction or response. She shrugged off the rebuff and spun tightly on her toes and danced back to Rowan and Ysmay who smiled at her as they reached the ending of the jig. She was still amazed at the skill which both children showed with their instruments as Rowan's wrist flicked back and forth hitting the bodhrán in perfect time to her whistle and Ysmay's arm skimmed rapidly and yet gracefully across her viol. She smiled back at them both as they finished the song and, before they could protest, quickly grabbed their hands and made them bow with her to the clapping audience.

"I don't know about you, but I could eat a whole horse I'm so hungry," Willow exclaimed once the crowd had disbursed.

"I'd best keep you away from the stables then," Ysmay laughed.

"Why would you do that?" Rowan asked Willow, "You're not Saxon so why would you want to eat horse?" confused with her statement. The two girls looked at each other for a second before biting their lips to suppress the laughter at the boy's question.

"One day you'll hopefully get jokes Rowan, one day," Ysmay sighed at her little brother.

"Anyway, I thought you decided that I was Saxon!" Willow cried, making Rowan shriek with laughter as she wrapped her arms around him, "I guess I don't need to eat a horse when I can eat a Knight instead!" and proceeded to tickle him. But the squealing from Rowan was soon loud enough that Willow had to eventually let him go for fear of damaging her hearing.

"Come on you two children, I swear sometimes I must be the eldest of us from the way you act. It's probably best that we pack up and go to find Ma and Pa for dinner," Ysmay sighed at the two of them as they then began a game of tag.

"Only if I get piggy back!" Rowan declared loudly.

"You can't, I need to help Ysmay carry the instruments," Willow replied, knowing that the boy was going to throw out her back someday soon.

"Its fine Willow, I can manage, so long you can shut him up, just do whatever," Ysmay answered. So with a triumphant cry, Rowan launched himself onto Willows back for the second time that day.

"I'm going to need a walking staff for my next birthday at the rate that this is going," Willow remarked wearily to Ysmay, who just rolled her eyes. The trio slowly made their way to towards the tavern; Ysmay loaded down with the instruments and Rowan deciding to not stay still on Willow's back and making it hard for her to hold on to him. But upon entering the tavern, Willow's stomach made such a loud growl that all three heard it and fell into laughter, while they managed to deposit all the instruments at their parents table and tucked into the beef stew that was waiting for them. As with many of the meals she ate, even those back in the 21st century, Willow couldn't help but think of how she would improve the food as she ate. Nevertheless, the food served its purpose and soon the family all had contented stomachs.

"I can't believe how warm it is in here," Willow huffed, trying in vain to cool her clammy face and neck down through her head cloth.

"Why don't you just take off the rag?" Ysmay retorted quickly, "It's not as if you're going to be the only one in here with long blonde hair for once." Willow twisted to look at her, and with a nod of her head, Ysmay directed Willow's gaze to the far corner of the tavern. Sitting at a table were the men who had been standing behind Lucan in the square but more had joined their number. Willow counted two new additions; one was a man with similar but shorter curly dark hair to the younger man. To her, he gave the impression of an unashamed flirt as Willow could clearly see his eyes travelling over any of the barmaids who happened to walk past the table. The other addition was another bald man, who currently had one of the barmaids on his lap; a pretty red head who carried a small child of only a couple of years old in her arms. As a group they distinctly appeared different from the rest of the tavern, if not the whole fort, in Willow's eyes.

'_I wonder if they are foreigners who happen to be passing through or traders at the market?'_ Willow mused; '_they don't look that British. The blonde hair on that guy does look similar to mine so maybe that means it might be alright if I didn't wear the head cloth here.'_

"Alright, I'll take of the 'rag' if you shut up about it," Willow finally decided and grinned at Ysmay.

"Well it's about time!" She breathed, "Come outside so I can deal with it for you. It's probably made your hair flat and I'll make sure it covers your skin pictures."

"You know, for a girl of only fourteen summers, you are incredibly bossy," Willow frowned, but got up and followed Ysmay outside anyway. They walked towards a nearby well and Ysmay instructed Willow to sit down on the edge with a point of her finger. Willow immediately felt the cool air on the scalp when Ysmay untied the cloth.

"Ahhh that feels so much better," Willow sighed.

"I've told you before," Ysmay simply replied in a smug tone.

"Yeah, yeah," Willow grumbled back.

Soon Ysmay had Willows long hair out of its tight bun and used some of her own combs to make sure the hair flowed gracefully down Willow's back. To cover the tattoos, she crafted the cloth into a shawl around Willow's shoulders so that neither the picture nor the writing would be visible. Enjoying the cool of the breeze on her sweaty neck and head, Willow began to quietly sing,

"Birds flying high, you know how I feel  
Sun in the sky, you know how I feel  
Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel  
It's a new dawn,  
It's a new day,  
It's a new life,  
For me  
And I'm feeling good."

She couldn't suppress a sigh at the refreshing sensation. Finally Ysmay finished and stood back to admire her handiwork.

"Why don't you sing more often?" she asked as she looked over the position of the shawl to make certain it covered everything. Willow stopped and a pensive expression crossed her features.

"I do sing," but her thoughtful look quickly turned into a smirk; "You hear me sing all the time, in fact, in your humble opinion, when I sing I apparently sound like a drowning cat!" she answered back up at the young girl. As she stood and dusted herself off, she noticed how much better she could hear now that there wasn't a layer of fabric in the way of her ears.

"You only sound like a cat when you're singing wakes me up in the mornings. But what I mean is, why don't you sing in public more like when we perform?" Ysmay inquired, "We're always telling you how nice your voice is and you know all these different songs."

"I guess, but I just feel more comfortable playing my whistle or the flute," Willow shrugged. Just then Rhiannon came to the doorway of the tavern and called over to them.

"Girls, we've been asked to play another song for the tavern. Apparently someone told the tavern owner about us. Hurry up and come inside." The two girls started to walk back and Willow continued to enjoy the feeling of the soft breeze through her now free hair.

"Willow! Your hair looks wonderful my love!" Rhiannon gushed as they came closer. Willow smiled in response and followed the two women inside to perform again.

'_Perhaps__ but some conditioner wouldn't go amiss right now though'_ she pondered as looked at the split-ends of her hair. It had been hard for Willow to get used to life without modern technology at first and even after more than a year without it, she still found herself missing certain amenities that she had had before the fog. She brushed her nostalgic thoughts aside, knowing it was pointless to dwell on the past, or the future or whatever it was to her now and she made her way over to the table, picking up her whistle again. As she ran her fingers through her now loose hair, she sat back in her seat at the table as it appeared that the family had yet to decide on the song they would play for the tavern.

"Rowan's not allowed to choose," Ysmay quickly said as she saw her brother begin to suggest one, "I want us to play 'Silver Strand'," and looked pointedly at Willow.

"Please don't make me sing Ysmay!" Willow pleaded knowing exactly why the girl had chosen that particular song.

"Aye, a good choice. We haven't played that one in a while and don't worry; it's not really singing," Aiden agreed, "plus you know it's one of Rhiannon's favourites," he mentioned quietly to Willow next to him. She sighed; of course Aiden knew exactly what to say.

"Fine but I'm not going to dance. I'm going to stay sitting right here," she said, folding her arms across her chest knowing that she sounded very much like a petulant child.

"That's fine my dear, everyone will still be able to admire your hair from here," Rhiannon said smiling before she leant over and quietly added, "and thank you for agreeing to sing my favourite."

Unable to resist a smile at the kind hearted women, Willow turned back around and looked out across the room again. The rest of the tavern seemed oblivious, as of yet, to the families intentions but the men around the table in the far corner were all looking at the musician's table. Those of them who had seen them perform earlier looked excited, while those who had not, looked curiously at Willow. She averted her gaze as she felt strangely vulnerable without having her head cloth on and having the men's unwaveringly stare on her; she could feel her cheeks redden at the feeling. But determined to appear confident, Willow wet her lips, took a deep breathe and began to sing.

* * *

**A/N**: _Another update FTW! Well in truth - you can expect them quite quickly as I've already written up to chapter 10 as until that point, my mind was giving me no room to think about my dissertation and two other essays that I need to write before the end of this month and early May._

_Reviews! Reviews! :)_

_Homeric: I meant to say thanks in the last chapter but forgot, sorry about that so thank you for my first review! and coming from an experienced writer like you is awesome (I've read all of your Llynya's Song/Faithless/Fragile trilogy which was amazing! And I hope to start on Chosen soon). Not gonna lie, feeling a bit honoured that you're reading my back-in-time fic when you normally don't go for this type of story, I just hope it doesn't disappoint. (And on another side note - I'm lil in love with your profile picture of the-god-that-is Nathan Fillion in the firefly t-shirt – legendary!)_

_Dementia: Really glad you liked it. Yeah, writing the performances has been a little tricky but I hope you can imagine what I hoped they look like. If it helps the picture, I kind of imagined Willow's dancing and playing like a tin whistle version of Máiréad Nesbitt from the band Celtic Woman, the way she plays in loads of the bands performances was a big influence._

_Cleo Nightingale: Thanks so much and btw modern education is brilliant and I can't wait to read more. I was fed up with that type of thing happening as it always bugs me a bit when the girl is instantly found and friends with the knights within minutes. A part of me just thinks that the knight's characters would be more cautious towards them at first._

_So - songs in this chapter:_  
_'Haste to the Wedding' (as previously mentioned)_  
_'Trout in the Bath' – there a few versions of this but the Corrs one was what I listened to_  
_'Feeling Good' by Nine Simone – classic_  
_And finally, 'Silver Strand' - another song by The Corrs (which also overlaps into the next chapter)_

_(And I don't know if I'm meant to do this but all songs are copyright to their writers and not me)_

_Thanks_

_Pitta x_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

Letting the melody rise up from her throat, Willow closed her eyes to distract herself from the now almost gawking expressions of the tavern patrons. Unused to singing in front of a crowd, besides the family, Willow felt distinctly vulnerable at that moment. But mentally shaking herself against her betraying thoughts she began to enjoy listening to the song and the music which the family was playing beside her and let it wrap completely around her consciousness. Opening her eyes, she turned her head towards Rhiannon and smiled at the woman's delighted expression, she returned Willow's smile widely, closed her eyes as well and revelled in the melody of the music. Willow twisted back around, placing her whistle to her lips and as she joined in with the tune and flicked her eyes out across the room. A more melodic and peaceful song than the previous music they had played that day and not considered one to dance to, she was content to sit and appreciated the audience from the table as she swayed her shoulders lightly to the music.

Many of the customers, who had been sat at tables farther away from the family had come closer to watch and now stood in a wide semi-circle, were enthralled by the melody. And gradually, as Willow began to sing for the second time, more joined the previously standing viewers until any other activities in the tavern had ceased and all attention was focused purely on the musicians and particularly on Willow as she sang. She glanced around, gaining some more confidence than she had had before due to the crowd's clear appreciation, Willow noted that the table in the far corner and its occupants had also been enticed by the family's music and had subsequently joined the listening crowd. She cast her eyes over the strange group again; but was caught by the same intense stare from the dark scruffy haired man from the square earlier. Intrigued by his intent look, Willow equally focused her contrasting blue eyes back into his rich brown. After a moment of a staring match, she traced her gaze back to rest of the tavern as she began to play her whistle for the final part of the tune. Nonetheless, the feel of the man's eyes still on her weighted heavier than all others in the tavern combined and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and a shiver run down her spine. As a result, the conclusion of the performance did not bring Willow any of the usual feelings of satisfaction she got, instead she felt restless underneath the man's scrutiny.

"That was incredible," the pretty red-head admired as she came over to the finished musicians, "when Dagonet, Galahad and Gawain told me about you lot, I never imagined that! You even got Tristan's praises and that's something always rare to come by."

"Thank you Vanora, that's very gracious of you," Rhiannon replied, already acquainted with the woman.

"Any chance you feel like playing another one? This place could use a good dance, although I'm not even sure if some of these old codgers even remember how to dance but it should be fun to shake them up a bit!" She asked laughing.

"I'm sorry but we're very tried and have been travelling for most of the day," Aiden answered politely as he watched Rowan try to suppress a large yawn.

"I don't mind!" Willow said hastily standing up. She still felt agitated after the previous song and knew that a rigorous jig always managed to calm and tire her out. "Aiden, if you don't mind playing the lute, I'll play 'Pressed for Time'," she offered.

"Are you sure you're up for it? You have already done a lot this evening," He quietly asked.

"I'll be fine, I think I still just have some unused energy to burn off," Willow responded, touched by his caring question so gave him a reassuring smile.

With a nod of his head, Aiden picked up his lute and positioned himself for their last song of the evening. Ysmay and Rhiannon, who had placed a sleepy Rowan on to her lap, remained seated and waited expectantly for Willow to perform one of her most energetic tunes. This time, Willow made her way into the centre of the semi-circle, cracking her knuckles in order to loosen her fingers and out of agitation. She counted in to Aiden to begin the song and on three, let the notes fly. She tapped her foot momentarily to the beat before promptly she began her usual dance around the space and zigzagged through the standing audience. The two men from the group, who had danced in the square earlier, immediately followed Willow's encouragement and dragged two of the watching bar maids into the space and led the dance. Seeing their actions, Willow skipped between the two couples and nodded to the two men, and was rewarded a winning smile from each as they swung their partners round to the music. With them leading the trend, she looped round to dance back through the audience to where the two men had been standing. As she weaved through the mysterious group, suddenly an arm slipped around her waist as she tried to dance past. Upon turning around, Willow was confronted with a devilish smirk from the older curly haired man, but with only a quick glance at his offending arm, Willow expertly spun out of the embrace, with obvious practice from other men who had thought to catch her in previous towns, and playfully circled behind the taller shaved headed man. The act gained a laugh from both shaved men and Vanora, while the man was left looking disgruntled.

'_The flirt's obviously not used to rejection'_ Willow mused.

The exertion of the dancing had done its job and had finally begun to tire out Willow's muscles as she circled the tall man. Continuing forward, she thankfully came to the abrupt finish of the song, but she happened to conclude the jig face to face with the same dark brown eyes which she had felt on her for most of the evening. Up close she noticed that there were small specks of amber in them. But the realisation that she was so close to him; Willow could sense her cheeks blossom with heat which only fuelled her embarrassment further. Turning her head round, she noted that her family had begun to gather together their instruments while the crowd had finished dancing and applauded their show. Sending the man a curt nod, Willow spun on her heels and quickly headed over to her family, failing to catch the abrupt inquisitive look that crossed the man's face as she turned her head around. Walking to her family, Willow did catch Ysmay's wide eyes and her urgent whisper,

"Your shawls fallen down, I can see your flower!"

"Shit!" Willow muttered under her breath and hastily pulled the cloth back into place around her neck "was it obviously showing?" she whispered back.

"I don't think so," Ysmay gave a hesitant smile.

Turning round to face the crowd once she was standing next to Aiden again, Willow smiled and bowed to the applause that filled the room. Smiling up at the faces, she noticed a figure of a tall man leaning against the doorway at the back of the tavern. He was tall, clean shaven and looked almost Roman to her and she wondered how long he had been standing there.

"Arthur!"

The sudden call from her right made Willow's blood run cold as the group of foreigners also noticed the man.

"Glad to see that you are able to make time in your busy royal schedule to visit us humble knights," one of them joked to the man as he walked over to them.

"Well my dear Lancelot, we can't all spend our time drinking in here," he countered.

"Wanna bet?" the shorter bald man grinned into his cup.

Arthur laughed, "Ah, you, of course Bors, are the exception."

"So Arthur, is this a purely social visit? Or do you have some more arse numbly boring diplomatic thing we have to do?" Lancelot casually asked as his eyes followed a passing barmaid.

Arthur ignored Lancelot's question, "Knights I wanted to remind you of the important dinner in two nights time."

Lancelot grinned into his cup as he took a drink, "Arse numbingly boring it is."

"Do we have to be there?" the younger dark haired man asked, almost whining.

"Don't think you're getting out of it Galahad," the golden haired knight chuckled, giving his friend a heavy clap on the back.

"Thank you Gawain and yes Galahad, I want you all to be there as a show to the visiting dignitaries the united vision of this land we want to create. As my knights and my friends I had hoped you would be as willing to follow me into this dinner as loyally you do into battle," his eyes looked at each knight individually seriously but with a chuckle he added, "it should be easier for you anyway, you can just pay no attention and eat. I'm not so sure for myself; some of the nobles seem to be not so willing to join us as I had hoped and I'm not looking forward to those negotiations." He shook his head wearily.

"We shall be there and support you Arthur, no matter what," the tall man nodded to Arthur and patted his shoulder in a friendly and gentle gesture that his large hands looked to be incapable of doing.

"Thank you Dagonet," Arthur returned the gesture and looked across the table, "Tristan, a report on your scouting mission tomorrow morning if you would." The man in question, who Willow realised, was the owner of the brown eyes, merely nodded to Arthur and returned to cutting up the apple in his hands with a mean looking dagger.

'_Oooooo fuck,' _She mentally slapped herself as she watched them, '_well done Willow, you've just played twenty-first __century music to the historical Dark Age King of Britain and the legendary Knights of the Round Table without realising and now have probably affected the future which you promised you wouldn't do, nice going! Of course those men are the knights you idiot; they look different from everyone else because they're from Sarmatia, how the hell did you not know that?' _Bowing her head in shame at her own stupidity, Willow slowly turned around and faced the family and could have kissed Aiden for what he said next.

"Time for sleep I think," he sighed, as he cast a glance at the sleeping form of his son on his mother's lap. With only a nod to him, as her voice seemed stuck in her throat, Willow bent down and took hold of Rowan legs as Rhiannon gently placed him on to her back in order to carry him home.

"The idea of a soft and warm bed sounds like the best thing possible to me," Ysmay said through a large yawn. Glad that the family had not noticed the newcomer to the tavern and his conversation with the far table, Willow, when out of the tavern, released the breath she didn't even realise she had been holding and once at a safe distance away allowed herself a small smile.

'_I've just seen King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Bet Mr Roberts would be jealous,'_ she smiled as she thought of her old history teacher as the family slowly made their way through the clear spring night to their small cottage.

* * *

"You should have arrived earlier Arthur, that family of musician's were pretty decent," Galahad said to his commander as Arthur sat down at table, having been persuaded by Lancelot to stay for a drink.

"I watched the end of the last song," he answered the young knight, "their music was certainly energetic."

"And that girl definitely knew how to move," Gawain commented with a grin, "what was it that she was playing? I've never seen that type of instrument before."

"Me neither, but it did make a good tune and that little lady sure knew a thing or two," Bors added, echoing Gawain's grin.

Lancelot snorted into his mug of ale as he took a drink, causing Bors to bark out a laugh.

"Don't be a bastard 'bout it! Just 'cause she knew how to handle you."

The rest of the knights joined in with Bors' laughing; it was a rare occurrence if a woman rebuffed Lancelot's advances. Even Tristan's usual impassive face showed the touch of a smile at Lancelot's rejection, some part of him was secretly glad of her snub of Lancelot. He realised it was the same small part that had kept his eyes locked on her when he had seen her perform both times. But with a mental shake he went back to his nearly finished apple and listening to the knight's conversation, dismissing the feeling as purely interest in the new musician's arrival at the fort.

"Maybe you're losing your skills," Galahad joked.

"Pup, I've got skills you couldn't even begin to imagine. Anyway why would I trouble myself with her when that would mean being unfaithful to my beautiful Vanora," his characteristic smirk back in place as he grabbed the barmaid round the waist, dragging her to his lap as she tried to refill their drinks. She just huffed and smacked the knight on his chest as she pushed herself away, giving a reassuring squeeze of Bors's shoulder and kiss on the head as she made her way back to the bar. Her touch ending the low growl her lover had been giving to Lancelot since he had grabbed Vanora.

"Careful woman!" Lancelot called after her, "you don't help my recovery by constantly hitting me," rubbing his chest where the arrow had almost pieced his heart.

"Then stop pushing and pulling me around!" She retorted loudly back over her shoulder from the rear of the tavern.

"Is your wound still ailing you?" Dagonet asked, worry creasing his brow.

"Nye Dagonet, just a tweak, there is no need to keep mothering. Both Tristan and I are now perfectly healthy thanks to your healing prowess although I'll never forgive you for half of the foul concoctions you forced down our throats," Dagonet's face showed a moment of chagrin before returning to its usual neutral position. The knights still felt blessed by either their gods or Arthur's for the fortune they had had with their injuries. Dagonet, following his heroic escapade on the ice against the Saxons, had been so cold that his heart rate had slowed down enough that they were able to successful stem his blood flow which had ultimately saved his life and then been able to warm him back up. Similarly, the wounds that Tristan and Lancelot had gained at the Battle of Badon Hill had all appeared fatal but were more superficial than they had first appeared though still had taken weeks to recover and caused Dagonet to uncharacteristically fuss over them though with the addition of some of Merlin's most skilled healers had probably been a large factor in all having successfully evaded almost certain death.

"Even the fearless scout still looks scared whenever he has to enter the healing rooms now," Lancelot continued. Tristan nodded in agreement as both knights, particularly him, had shown an aversion to entering the rooms following their long forced confinement by Dagonet.

"Do you think the family would be willing to play at the dinner for the guests?" Arthur wondered aloud to the table, bringing the conversation back to the musicians.

"Probably," Gawain offered, "being troubadours, they will be looking for work around the fort whenever they aren't busking."

"Better reserve them soon though, Terryn has decided he wants them here on a regular basic while they're staying at the fort," Vanora told Arthur as she came back to her favourite table and indicated to the landlord of tavern in his usual place on his personal stool at the bar, "thinks that they will bring more business with that pretty thing playing here. She was something, wasn't she, particularly that hair, besides Gawain I've never seen the like" she added as she looked critically at her own shorter red locks.

"At least hers looked washed," Galahad murmured as he took a drink but a swift slap to the back of his head from his so called dirty cousin shut him up.

"You are perfect my little flower!" Bors proclaimed as he pulled Vanora on to his lap and kissed her passionately, "I wouldn't change you for all the gold in Rome... well maybe not for all the silver at least," he then muttered jestingly to Dagonet, earning him also a smack from Vanora.

"You cheeky sod," she giggled.

"Her hair is the only other fair colour that I have seen in Britain for a while. I wonder if she is from Sarmatia. I don't think she is related to the family, their colouring is all dark while is she so fair, that's probably why she was initially wearing that head cloth. Maybe she's actually Saxon?" Gawain wondered out loud about the girl. He had only ever seen blonde hair in the knight's homeland and a few of the Saxons who the knights had fought but even then they had been few in number and he knew how much the light colour could easily be seen. The rest of the knights frowned as they thought about Gawain's assessment.

"Maybe she's a possible Saxon spy?" Galahad offered.

"Hmmm... perhaps," Arthur considered, his mind now beginning to question the girl's presence at the fort in relation to the timing with the important dinner in two days time but a snort from the barmaid brought him and the other knights out of their reverie.

"You think that that harmless girl could be a Saxon spy?" Vanora scoffed, "I think you all need to go and fight something and get it out of your system. You're all becoming paranoia. I spoke with the girl's parents and they are just humble troubadours who came here for work because of your wedding Arthur and now you're accusing them of being spies! Honestly!" she got up from Bors lap and left with the knights hearing her grumble all the way back to the bar, catching phrases like "men!" and "need to just kill something" as she walked away.

Arthur sighed heavily, "I guess Vanora has a point. We haven't had a Saxon attack in a while, only heard rumours, maybe we're just on edge now," he reasoned, "but just to make certain, Tristan can you follow the girl to make sure," he added quietly to the scout so that only the other surrounding knights could hear. Tristan nodded to his order but thought differently from his friends. To him, the girl wasn't Saxon but there was definitely something else about her that caught his attention, even beyond the strangely coloured tattoo she had on her neck that he had seen, and his order successfully provided a legitimate reason for him to find out. With the air of the conversation having taken a more sinister turn Arthur took his leave of his knights and, after nodding to Vanora who only gave him an abrupt wave back; still angry at the knight's unnecessary suspicions, made his way to his quarters for the night. The rest of the knights soon departed the tavern as well, having not been able to return to their previous jollity, as each contemplated the unfamiliar girl and her possible sinister purpose at the fort as they separated to their own rooms.

* * *

**A/N**: _Sooooo, the knights have made their proper appearance. I hope that the characterisation is right; I'm really worried that I'll write them wrong and out of character._

_Lolly: I happy you like the story and are appreciative of the music selection – but I should warn you, it's probably going to get a bit worse later on (some Disney may be finding its way into the story :S). Thanks for describing my music taste as interesting; I would personally say it's diversely odd and weird at times :) But I've always preferred the original Nina Simone version than the others like Michael Bublé or Muse. _

_Misssyl: Thank you so much for liking Willow! I've had serious panic at times as to whether she is too Mary Sue-ish, even going so far as to doing some quizzes online to find out if she was but they came back with varied result (I know – seriously nerdy) so that didn't help the worry, but that's a huge relief that she's liked. I'm happy you think the storyline is interesting and original. The number fics that there are now I think its becoming increasingly hard to be original without stepping on another stories toes, metaphorically speaking._

_Homeric: Yep I liked writing Rowan's character, I hoped he did come across as a 9 year old boy; I have two older brothers so I could only base it a little on how we were when I was 9. Yeah I didn't want Willow to be a whiny character; she's meant to be quite pragmatic and very much of the mindset that when life gives you lemons — make lemonade. But there will be times when she can't help but think of her life before travelling back in time – I think if anyone was in that situation, some things you can't help but miss. I loved Lucan and Dagonet's relationship in the film, even if it was a brief one so had to include it. Hmmm, we'll have to see about the hair tips just for now, though that did make me chuckle imaging a camp Gawain having his hair brushed by Willow while talking about split-ends and shampoo — dark age shampoo of course._

_Allison: Glad you like the story so far. I wanted her be found back in time by other people than the knights and a while before the battle of Badon Hill so she could have knowledge and experience of the time than just crashing straight in, though she does sometimes still manage to say the wrong thing or do something which wouldn't be expected in the Dark Ages. The hair situation should be interesting as it's not going to do her any favours. I thought that would be more realistic as I read somewhere that it wasn't until the Saxons settled in Britain and integrated with the existing population that us Brits got our blonde hair (sorry about the history lesson, I just found it really interesting). I loved Lucan and that cute mass of hair of his and I just had to have him come into the story earlier than the others._

_Music:  
The Corrs – 'Silver Strand'  
Flook – 'Pressed For Time'_

_Chapter 5 will be up soon!_

_Cheers  
Pitta x _


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine._

_

* * *

_

"Drip, drip, drop  
Little April shower  
Beating a tune as you fall all around,"

Willow's voice carried clear through the early morning air as she led the family horses, Varden and Herne, across the empty market.

"Drip, drip, drop  
Little April shower  
What can compare to your beautiful sound?  
Beautiful sound, beautiful sound, drip drop, drip drop,

Drip, drop, drip  
When the sky is cloudy, your pretty music will brighten the day  
Drip, drip, drop  
When the sky is cloudy you come along with a sound right away  
Come with your beautiful music."

Skipping over puddles as the clouded sky gently rained down over the fort, and as Herne tried his best to avoid a particularly large puddle as well, she giggled at the hefty bay horse's silly antics. But the carefree mood immediately evaporated when, all of a sudden, Varden pulled sharply on his head collar and reared on to his hind legs, letting out a loud squeal and almost dragged his lead rope out of Willow's grip. Acting quickly, she brought Varden back down, and grabbing hold of his mane at the withers, vaulting herself on to his back. Once seated, she slowly stroked the Appaloosa coloured horse's neck and spoke gentle words, trying to calm the agitated Varden down. Luckily, feeling the comforting weight of Willow on his back and hearing her voice, he almost instantly stilled. The horse had trusted Willow implicitly from the first moment that she had found him, starving and abandoned, for reasons she could only guess as being due to his imperfect and unusual colouring. Willow had coaxed the weak stallion home to the family's wagon, had taken care of him and was slowly allowed to ride him, though only by his decision and he never allowed anyone else even the remotest attempt. Cautiously, his friend Herne quitely came over and gently nuzzled his big soft copper head into Willow's back, almost as if asking her if his friend was alright and wanting a reassuring pat himself. Grateful that her horse had calmed down but in case of another spook, Willow thought it best to remain on his back and so rode Varden bareback, while holding on to Herne's rope, towards their original destination.

The stables were a lot more impressive inside than its plain brick façade first implied. As she slipped down from Varden's back, Willow took in the many wooden stalled that lined the outer walls and the large open area in the middle that was certainly wide enough to lunge a horse round. On the opposite side of the door were a series of wooden platforms, littered with some hay bales, odd bits of armour and horse tack. Willow walked further into the stables and was surprised to see that grooms had already begun to muck out and clean the horses even though it was still an early hour of the morning. The stable already contained many horses but a distinct seven seemed to have been given the best stalls. They contained three black horses, three greys and an impressively large white one, which Willow naturally assumed had to be the mounts of the King and the Knights.

"Can I help you?" asked a friendly looking man as he walked towards where Willow stood between Varden and Herne. His curly hair cut short but had a few small pieces of straw sticking out of it.

"I think my father, Aiden, arranged with you yesterday evening for two stalls for our horses to be stabled during our stay," Willow answered. It was easier to called Aiden her father than try to explain her relationship with the family.

"Ah, the travelling musicians," he said knowingly, "yes, he did last night. He also mentioned something about one having particular behaviour issues we should know about."

"Yes, Varden can be very temperamental with anyone beside me so it would probably be best if I did everything concerning him," Willow muttered, embarrassed that the special treatment she had to give Varden would appeared pretentious and dismissive of the stables capabilities.

"Oh that's fine; we have other horse's who are the same; only their owner's seem to be able to get near them." He nodded his head in the direction of a particular stall which had the head of a dappled dark grey horse poking out of it, as it slowly munched on some hay.

She sighed with relief, "Thank you ...urmm...?"

"Jols," the man smiled at Willow, introducing himself.

"Thank you Jols, I'm Willow," she held out her hand which he shook in a firm handshake.

"Like the tree?"

Willow laughed at the hearing the question again.

"Yeah, just like the tree. Well these are the horses; the big bay is Herne whose a big softy while this stroppy one, is Varden. Would it be possible to have them stabled next to each other? It's just Varden won't shut up otherwise," she asked as the horse in question decided to lay his head lazily on her shoulder. Jols smiled at the horse and nodded and called over one of the stable grooms, to whom Willow handed over Herne's rope, before following with Varden towards the stalls on the right side of the building. Looking around the stables as she began to give Varden a quick brush one he was settled in the stall, she watched as the brown eyed knight, whose name she remembered overhearing was Tristan, entered the stables.

_'Humph, what a surprise!'_ She huffed to herself and observed as Tristan quietly walked up to Jols who had his back turned to the knight's approach. Willow had to strongly suppress a snort of laughter as the moment that the knight spoke; the sound caused Jols to almost jump out of his skin. She shook her head, feeling sorry for the man. Turning her concentration back to Varden and blocking out everything else, she began to a sing softly to the horse as she began to brush him down. The song, from a film about a horse which she had watched with the children at the home, reminded her of Varden and his indomitable spirit towards anyone else, apart from herself.

"Well you think that you can take me on,  
You must be crazy.  
There ain't a single thing you've done,  
That's gonna phase me.  
Oh, but if you want to have a go,  
I just want to let you know,

Get off my back and into my game,  
Get out of my way and out of my brain,  
Get out'ta my face or give it your best shot,  
I think it's time you better face the fact,  
Get off my back."

* * *

Looking across at the girl, Tristan spoke to Jols in a low voice once the man had recovered, "is there anything possibly Saxon about the horses? Arthur wants to know if she could possibly be a spy." Jols raised an eyebrow at the scout's question.

"Her? A Saxon? I admit her hair is very fair but there's nothing Saxon about her. Although her horse, I think she said its name was Varden, is of unusual colouring but not that of a Saxon mount." The two men cast a glance at the horse which the girl was singing to as she brushed its coat. It had very dark brown, almost black, legs and the same colour covered the front torso to the middle of its back but the top of its hind quarters was white with dark spots speckled across it. As if knowing the two men were examining it, the horse turned its head towards them both and they could see its facial markings appeared to be an irregular blaze across its entire face as it stared back at them with seemingly intelligent hazel eyes. Eventually, the horse turned its head back to the girl as she said something to it, breaking the staring match it was having with Tristan that reminded him of the similar one he had had with its mistress the night before.

"No, that is no Saxon horse, thought I have never seen another like it with its markings," Tristan finally spoke. The other man, used to Tristan's lack of conversation, just nodded silent in agreement.

"Are you going to see to Odana now?" Jols asked him and with his own nod, Tristan made his way to the darker dappled horse of the greys and was greeted with a nudge to his jerkin's pocket from the horse as it looked for its daily apple from its owner.

"What you looking for eh? What you want?" He playfully cuffed the mare's ears. Tristan knew the point at which she was standing behind him as he had heard her necklace making a soft chiming noise as she had walked towards the stall.

"Why were you following me earlier?" She was straight to the point which surprised him, it was something which Tristan was not used to with women; to him, they always seemed to talk around subjects unnecessarily before coming to their meaning. His surprise was increased further by the fact that she knew that he had been watching her as she had walked her horses and he couldn't doubt her horsemanship when his hawk had accidentally spooked the spotted horse.

"You scared my horse and I don't appreciate it." Her voice clearly announced her irritation.

"Don't flatter yourself, I wasn't following you," Tristan said, turning his expressionless face to her, "you just happened to be going in the same direction." She stood in silence, listening to his words for longer than was necessary, to the extent where he wondered if she had understood his accent. Suddenly, as if realising she had been standing there for too long, she turned and left the stables without a backwards glance, though he thought he saw the beginnings of a blush. He watched her leave before going back to brushing Odana, reflecting on what he thought now having spoken, albeit briefly, with her. Quickly finishing the care of his mount, Tristan gave a nod to Jols as he exited the stables and made his way to Arthur's rooms to report on his scouting and the girl.

Walking through the fort, Tristan spent the time wondering how life had got him to that point. Truthfully, if they had received their discharge papers on time; Galahad, Gawain, Lancelot and Tristan would have all been long gone from Hadrian's Wall and Britain, and would have travelled back to try and locate any remains of their families and tribes in their native Sarmatia. Bors and Dagonet would have stayed here; having never left each other's side since leaving their village together sixteen years ago, plus Bors had his children and Vanora to consider and would not have left them, even despite his joking that always earned him a smack from his long-time lover. He guessed that Arthur would have travelled with the departing knights to Gaul, before taking his own pilgrimage to his previously beloved Rome. So many things had changed in the knights' opinion of the world since the day that Bishop Germanius had arrived over half a year ago.

As he continued on walking, Tristan let out a silent chuckle; thinking how Arthur, was not only now married, but also the ruler of this rain sodden country and would never again want to visit the Rome of his childhood dreams. Although, even after each of the knights had sworn fealty to their new king, thoughts of some form of home still persisted in their minds and seeing Arthur so content and happy with Guinevere had stirred something in them all, even Bors, who realised he needed to sort out his situation with Vanora sooner than he thought. Tristan always publicly scoffed at the thought whenever Galahad and Gawain had their conversations about possible marriages, but something deep inside Tristan did secretly like the idea of another half who would always be there for him to return to and welcome him without question or hesitation. However, he realistically knew no woman would want to be with him in such a way when so many at the fort were openly apprehensive, even scared, around him due to his reputation on the battlefield and scouting missions for taking pleasure in his killing. As a smirk stretched across his lips, which he realised probably made him look akin to Lancelot, though his was more sadistic in manner; he rounded the final corner of the knight's barracks and came to stand in front of the large wooden doors that accessed the enlarged rooms that doubled as Arthur's office and living quarters. He placed his features back into their familiar expressionless position, knocked and walked through, following Arthur's answering call. Entering the dark room, the walls lined with shelves of scrolls and books, Tristan made his way to the empty seat opposite Arthur's place at the large table, where his leader and friend was examining a scroll.

With a mere nod in his direction, Tristan began his report of his three day scouting mission that he had returned from yesterday morning. The Knight and his commander had quickly developed an understanding of little words between them over the years and both appreciated the quiet in their exchanges, in comparison to their other rather boisterous brothers in arms.

"No Saxon activity still. Some villagers in the smaller settlements have moved to more central towns, your sovereignty over the land seems to have increased security for trading. The Woads... the Picts," He corrected himself, knowing that their previously demeaning nickname for the natives was no longer tolerated by Arthur due to the new Queen, "are still keeping mainly to the forests and still following Merlin's order of peace."

Arthur always appreciated Tristan's direct approached when reporting and his meticulous nature in his scouting duties. Arthur gave the scout another nod before rising from his seat to his shelves, extracting a particular scroll, and striding back to the table, he laid out the scroll that was a map of the area, and directed it towards Tristan.

"Show me the growing towns," and wordlessly, as Arthur worried over their possible vulnerability if another Saxon attack did occur, Tristan began to indicate the different areas which the population had moved from and where they had relocated. After the scout finished both men remained in silence, Arthur, as he thought over the information and Tristan, who was content in waiting for Arthur to think over the reports he had given.

"Continue to keep an eye on the coast for Saxons and any other movements of the population," Arthur finally said, filling the silence of the room. Tristan nodded in silent agreement.

"Anything so far on the girl?" Arthur added as he rolled the scroll up.

"No, just that she was in the stables early this morning with the family's horses. But I have to admit Arthur," The scout looked his commander directly in the eye, for once, unobstructed by his hair, "the girl is no Saxon spy but there is something about her, with your permission I would like to observe her some more and try to find out what it is."

Arthur was a little taken aback by Tristan's request; he had never taken such an interest in anything besides his duties, but considering his scrupulous nature in his scouting, Arthur brushed it off and agreed to his request.

"I trust your judgement; I shall inquire if the family are able to play at the dinner then. You may continue but don't be seen and report back to me, I'll be curious to know what you find out."

Tristan's lips twitched at Arthur's words, who saw the small display of emotion on the scout's face, similarly smiled at himself.

"Of course you won't be seen, forgive me for underestimating your skills old friend," Arthur backtracked. With another small smile at his king, Tristan flicked the now fallen hair out of his eyes and inclined his head, making his way to the door.

"Whatever you do, don't tell Vanora what you're doing," Arthur called after him good naturedly, "She'll probably refuse you your apples for a long while if she did." Tristan just shook his head and answered with a short bark of laughter before he closed the large doors behind him. Walking out into the seemingly constant rain that the country had to offer, Tristan began to make his way towards the market to continue his investigation into the girl who had so unwittingly caught his attention.

* * *

**A/N: **_I feel this was a bit of a filler chapter but at least you get to hear a little of what Tristan is thinking. I hope you liked it and Chapter 6 is to be added soon._

_Thanks you for the awesome reviews lovely people!_

_Lolly: Definitely the resident flirt but you can't help but love him anyway._

_Allison: Thank you! I'm glad you thought I got the characters right, time will tell if I can keep it up though. And you know Lancelot gets over anything the only way he knows how… ;)_

_Homeric: Hmmmm, might have to wait a while to find out just exactly what Tristan uncovers…_

_Musique dans le chapitre:_  
_Disney Studio Chorus - 'Little April Shower' (From 'Bambi' - i can never stop my self from singing this whenever it rains)_  
_Bryan Adams – 'Get Off Of My Back' (From 'Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron' - not Disney but Dreamworks but just as good)_  
_(Told you the Disney would be making an appearance, and there will probably still be more to come as the music is great for telling stories. Sorry to anyone who isn't a fan – but you should be as they are some of the best in film history - fact!)_

_Anyhoo...thanks for reading!_

_Pitta x_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

"Are you sure we've got to leave tomorrow?" Rowan whined to his parents.

"Yes, you know we have been planning to visit Josslyn since we heard the news," Rhiannon reminded him as she continued to pack up the cottage and hand their belongings to Aiden for them to be placed in the wagon.

"But how will I become a Knight if I don't live at the wall?" he continued. At that Rhiannon looked to her husband for help.

"Rowan, you haven't seen your sister in two years, don't you want to see her and your new nephew?" his father tried, but the mention of the family's new addition, which they had heard word of the previous week, the boy's face instantly changed. The scowl, which he had been sporting since the decision to leave had been made, turned to a brilliant smile.

"Besides Rowan, you've never even spoken to the Knight's since we have been here," Ysmay teased her brother as she walked past him with another bag for the wagon.

"Not true, one of them patted me on the head after we finished at that dinner we played for them when we first got here!" He countered.

* * *

True to his word, Arthur had sent a messenger after his discussion with Tristan and the family were asked to perform at the dinner for the lands diplomats and the Knights the following night. Without hesitation, Aiden and Rhiannon had agreed, understanding the significance of the invitation and what it would mean for their reputation and business as musicians. What they had not anticipated was the reluctance Willow had shown to the idea and her initial refusal to perform at the dinner; though after some puppy dog eyes from Rowan and his plead that he would get to see the knights again she had finally relented. Nevertheless, she placed her head-cloth back on and refused to do any dancing during the night. She hadn't wanted to tell the family that the true reason she wanted to stay inconspicuous from the king and knights was in case she caused anything to happen that would change or upset history, and had resorted to telling them she that did not feel well enough to dance, all the while hating herself for lying to them. But the dinner, however, managed to completely change Willow's plans.

Upon arrival, the family had been shown to where they would be playing and had begun to set out their instruments when a strange man appeared from one of the rooms off the hall and had walked straight over to Willow and stopped right behind her as she stood laughing at one of Rowan's bad jokes. He had long brown hair which reached his shoulders and matching bread, along with three long dark marks on the right side of his forehead and underneath shone dark green eyes, that seemed fathomless. He was dressed in a dark cotton tunic with leather straps running over his chest and had a long sweeping cloak of black wolf-skin across his shoulders. The hall was still empty of guests; with only the servants who were preparing the round table, which Willow had gawked at for a moment on first entering the room, and the performing family. She had turned round to face him and say that the family were not ready to perform yet when he had unexpectedly reached out and gently started to take off her head-cloth. Willow instantly put her hands over his to stop him, but a look in his eyes had her hesitating, she stopped and allowed him to continue removing the article of clothing. She could not repress the shiver as he tilted her head and silently traced his fingers over the cherry blossom tattoo on her neck. Rhiannon had tried to speak, to give a plausible explanation for the markings, but Aiden held her back and with a shake of his head, her speech died on her lips; there was something significant about the man knowing of Willow's 'skin pictures'. Straightening back up and still not uttering a word or changing the unreadable expression on his face, the man then looked Willow in the eyes for an immeasurable moment. Until finally, he spoke, his voice possessing a strange accent.

"You are a long way from home my child," he smiled. Willow opened her mouth to reply but no words came out of her throat.

"Be not afraid of what your future has in wait for you. Everything that has happened was meant to be; otherwise it would not have led you here. You will do great things because of who you are, so do not hide yourself away, for that is the reason you are here, only then will it happen."

"...w-w-what will happen?" Willow managed to ask, as the words seemed to stick in her throat.

"Your two souls will find true happiness in each other, which they otherwise would not have found if they had remained apart. I'm sorry, you will never return to your own time but I am confident that you will not even wish to return once you find your fate."

And with that, the man turned around walked away through the same door he had come from, his cloak making only the softest sound as it swept behind him as he left. Willow stood motionless, her mind racing in trying to comprehend what the man had just said to her. She was never going home; there wasn't even any hint that it could be possible to return, it was a dead end and she would never get back. She was stuck in the fifth century indefinitely. Thinking over her time since she had arrived in the past, she had been lucky in her circumstances and she knew for certain that few could say the same, but she had always had the thought in the back of her mind that she would somehow manage to find a way back home even if it had meat getting ill from walking through countless fogs. The only light at the end of the tunnel could gather from the man's short speech was that she was going to meet her other half or something like that and be happy enough to want to stay here. Willow let out a very unladylike snort as she considered the type of men she had met in her year living in this time and she wasn't sure the mysterious man knew what he was talking about. The idea of finding her 'true love' amongst them did not appeal to her in the slightest. The sound of her exclamation had the family surrounding her in an instant, as if it was a sign that she was safe to approach after the strange meeting. They had, what seemed to be, a never ending stream of questions which Willow had no clue how to answer, but the strange story she had told them as an explanation of her situation on the Dales when they had first met, rang in their minds.

"So what does this mean?" Rhiannon asked the young woman. Willow turned towards her and smiled widely.

"I think..." She said hesitantly, "it means that for one thing, I don't need to wear my head-cloth anymore." A cry of happiness sounded from Ysmay who then immediately snatched the cloth from Willows hands.

"First thing we do after we finish tonight, we burn the rag in celebration!" she cried in triumph. With her cry, the family couldn't help but laugh and Rhiannon moved behind Willow to untied her hair from the knot it was in and let it flow down her back, but as she went to make sure that it covered her tattoos, Willow did the same as she had done with the man and placed her hands over the woman's.

"No Rhiannon, its fine. I think one of the things he was saying was that I shouldn't hide them either as they are a part of me." The woman nodded and smiled at Willow before asking,

"So does this mean that you shall be gracing our audience with some dancing tonight?" Willow returned her smile.

"I believe it does."

At that point the guests had entered the large room and the family had to settle themselves down for the evening. The strange man walked back into the room and with a smile and nod to Willow, took the seat next to Arthur. She was unable to stop her mouth from hanging open for a second when Arthur addressed the man as Merlin to the rest of the table, though it did explain a few things in her mind. Looking around at the other company who sat at the famous table she saw all the knights who she could now name individually after that first night at the tavern. Willow couldn't help narrowing her eyes a little at Tristan; she was still annoyed at him for scaring Varden unnecessarily and she could have kicked herself afterwards as she had stood too long listening to his voice when he had spoken to her, there had been dangerously hypnotic about it but she was confident that she had gotten out of the stables before he would have seen the blush on her cheeks. She quickly dropped her glare when the same knight turned his own gaze on her, as if sensing her glower.

The rest of the evening went as the family had thought it would, having performed before at dinners and events in other towns and cities. Willow even managed a short dance after the guests had finished their meal but did not chose to again as one of the guests stare had made her uncomfortable. He was a clean shaven young man with short black hair whose gaze made her feel like he was looking at her with no clothes on and she hastily sat back down, not wishing to relive the experience. From what she gathered from the talk during the meal, the meeting proved to only a partial success, with the company agreeing to reconvene in a year's time to try and resolve all the difficulties that some of the nobles still had about Arthur's rule over their lands.

The night ended with the family playing a number of lively songs to which a few had danced to, but they were more than happy to retire when they did, having played constantly for almost three hours. And carrying the very sleepy Rowan on her back again as he recounted, for about the fiftieth time, the moment that Dagonet had patted his head as the knight had walked past, Willow began to softly hum as they walked back to their cottage and thought about the different looks she had reserved during the evening. The gaze from the short haired man had unnerved her and made her feel uncomfortable, but the watching eyes of Tristan had again been on her as well but the difference in the looks confused her. Tristan's had not make her uncomfortable just conscious of his presence. She quickly dismissed it; he had frightened Varden and the horse had an ability of seeing the true nature of people and she was not impressed by his and she was sure he had been slinking in the shadows following her since the stables that day. So far, she had to admit to herself, the famed knights were not all that she had thought they would be.

Following that days, the family settled into a comfortable routine at the fort. They had secured work from the tavern owner Terryn and played most nights there and where given food as part of their payment, though it wasn't always the nicest. Other than that, the family had enjoyed living in a prosperous fort and had marvelled at the market, along with the secure and steady income the tavern had given them for their work. Willow had particularly enjoyed the freer feeling she had felt ever since walking through the fog. Taking Merlin's words to heart, she had truly relished her time and had even made friends with the barmaid at the tavern, Vanora. The redhead's kind nature and love of singing had endeared Willow to her and her many children hadn't even been able to scare her away. In fact, Willow loved all of Bors and Vanora's children as they reminded her of the large group kids she had grown up with in the children's home. The added bonus that Vanora's children all got on with Ysmay and Rowan meant that the two women spent a lot of time together when the children were playing, but also allowed Willow time to venture out on Varden for a ride when Vanora was happy to watch over all of them.

Riding Varden always put Willow in a happier mood, though it had taken a while for her to get used to riding on just a rug than the English saddle she had been used to before but relished the unrestricted style of riding it gave. She had needed the occasional ride as the eyes of the scout had been a constant presence to her since her first day there. She couldn't understand why he had been following her for most of her time at the fort, but riding out on Varden had always allowed her a break from his presence and made her happy that she was able to give him the slip now and again. She never alerted to him that she knew he was there; he seemed to believe that he made no noise whenever he followed her but Willow for some reason always heard him, she thought it was possibly the relief of not have the head cloth over her ears anymore that it improved her hearing, but after a while she had just gotten used to his distant company. Although at times, she couldn't resist temptation and hummed the Pink Panther theme loudly when she felt him watching and imagined him creeping around in the shadows following her.

Her relationship with some of the other knights was not much more than the knowledge of their names, but she reckoned they probably only knew her as the girl who played the whistle and flute at the tavern. Nonetheless she had grown to know Bors and Dagonet more. Bors primarily because of Vanora and their children but she also enjoyed his loud and boisterous character even if some of his jokes made her blush; which he always took considerable pleasure in causing. Willow had gotten to know Dagonet distantly at first mainly due to Lucan, who became her shadow for a time, informing her all about his life and his rescue by the knights and then his adoption by Dagonet. But it wasn't until she had been out looking for some ground ivy, instrusted by Rhiannon for Rowan who had a cough one day, that she had come across the boy's adopted father gathering stinging nettles for his herbal store, his huge hands gloved in thick leather gloves to protect them as they torn and ripped the plants from the ground. Though she was at first weary of the huge man, he had enticed Willow into conversation by asking her about herbs as Rhiannon had trained her a little with her own wide knowledge of the practice. They had subsequently walked back to the fort together; talking all the way and had parted on an agreement that Willow would visit the healing rooms with Rhiannon soon so they could discuss the topic further after Dagonet had remarked on his lack of a knowledgeable counterpart to converse with. Rhiannon had happily agreed and the three had enjoyed the many afternoons that they spent drinking tea and discussing, not only herbs, but many other subjects especially music, which Dagonet admitted he had always been interested in but never had the opportunity to indulge due to the knights previous service. Eventually the two women convinced him and gave him a few lessons on Aiden's lute that the musician happily lent for the knights tutoring.

* * *

Soon the weeks at the fort rolled by and until word came to the family of the birth of Aiden and Rhiannon's first grandchild and so the musicians decided upon leaving for the south to visit their daughter's new family, though all were sad to leave the fort. Willow had especially been fond of the sense of safety that being at the wall had given her; with the king and knights there, the fort seemed a haven to those who had travelled further afield across the largely unsettled country. However she loved the family who had been so kind and generous to her and did not want to leave them and was joining them in their travelling. She had only just finished packing up her own items when Rowan had started to whine to his parents.

"I'm going to the tavern to say goodbye to Vanora," Willow told Rhiannon and Aiden as she loaded her last belongings into the wagon.

"We'll see you there soon for some food and our last performance after we have finished loading everything here, we'll bring your whistle and flute with us when we come so don't worry about taking them just yet," Aiden replied, giving her a short nod as she started towards the tavern, the feel of the scout's now familiar gaze on her for what she thought was going to be the last time, and sang quietly to herself as she thought about their departure the following morning.

"A time passes by, direction unknown  
You've left us now but we're not alone  
Before you know it your cups over flown  
You measured no one that I've ever known

And it's quite alright and goodbye for now  
Just look up to the stars and believe who you are  
Cause it's quite alright and so long, goodbye."

* * *

_A/N: I hate the fact that the family are leaving, but the plot must go on. Hope you liked it and didn't mind the quick pace this chapter had, just had to speed through a few things – like Willow never going back to the 21st century - yeah that was a bit extreme but she'll forgive me for it in the end ;)  
_

_0white,as,snow0 – thank you! Glad you liked the characters :) (I know i've written your pen name wrong but for some reason the document manager kept not saving the first half of it until i wrote it using commas) _

_Homeric – cheers for the kudos! I'm pleased you liked it. I think maybe it gets a bit hard not to be too critical when you've read the story so many times over when writing, editing and checking it._

_Lolly - it's nice to know someone else gets the Disney thing and I'll check out 'perfect day' :)_

_zinks - thank you for review, hope you enjoyed this chapter as well_

_Music:_  
_Henri Mancini - 'The Pink Panther Theme' (is it bad that I chuckled to myself as I wrote that sentence? Yeah I thought so too…)_  
_Sum 41 – 'So Long, Goodbye'_

_Merci beaucoup peoplez_

_Pitta x_

_P.s So the next three chapters run on from each others so I'll try and post them all together so it reads better as there's going to be a lot happening to Willow when she gets to the tavern... _


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

Tristan watched as the girl made her way through the market in the direction of the tavern from the shadowed corner of a barn close to the families rented cottage. After weeks of watching her, he was no closer to knowing what made the girl persist in his mind so much or how she was different for any other person he had met before. Since the incident in the stables, Tristan had been careful not to be seen or heard and had followed the girl almost every day he could from the time of her arrival. She had proven to be more than he had expected, managing to escape him on several occasions, though he had quickly gathered that she had gone for a ride on her horse as it's stall was always empty when he would check the stables for her. He had first thought of following after her on Odana but decided that it would have been less inconspicuous if she had seen him out on his horse or noticed his tracks; the fort gave him cover and a crowd to disappear into if needed, though he did manage a few times to follow her out, though had struggled to keep up, the temperamental horse could really run when it wanted to. He moved from his vantage point and began his way through the market as well, keeping a distance from the target of his investigation, meandering through the crowd; always keeping her in his line of sight.

Tristan was glad that she had made friends with Vanora. He had always liked Bors's lover but never more than as friends, he would never consider the idea as he knew that if the older knight ever found out, Tristan would certainly never be able to have children. It was an action that Bors always threatened Lancelot with whenever he could and although most considered Tristan to be the most fearless of all the knights, he had to give Lancelot his dues for messing around with Bors the way he did. Thinking back to the girl; the employment of the family by Terryn at the tavern had made his observation easier of her and he had enjoyed watching her perform, perceiving the visual joy she experienced as she played. It reminded him of the same rush he had felt when killing, the rush of freedom he experienced, the only freedom Rome had given him for fifteen years and the satisfying feeling of killing those who wished to do the same to him; it had always given him that same buzz but now that he was free, it no longer felt the same. This new life was about preserving life, not taking it and Tristan did not feel that he had anything to defend, except his brothers. For too long it had been about killing but this stretch of peace that the land was experiencing was unnerving to him and made him feel restless. His scouting gave some relief but he had no need to go on such a trip recently, his latest missions had proved fruitless; all was quiet on the Saxon front. The watching of the girl had absorbed his attention but with the family leaving for the South, that too would conclude and he would be at another loose end. What he did not want to register to himself was a small voice in his head that spoke of wanting the girl to stay, to never leave the fort and to be there for him to always watch, but he just discounted that as a reaction to the impending lost of his distraction.

Coming to the edge of the market, Tristan saw the girl had decided to take her habitual route of the back door into the tavern and through the kitchens, which he had always thought peculiar, but to remain unnoticed he walked to the main doorway of the tavern and took a seat at the knights usual table, joining Galahad and Gawain who probably already been there for most of the day. All the knights seriously had too much time on their hands nowadays he thought wearily.

* * *

Willow sighed softly to herself as she imagined how mysterious and stealthy Tristan must think himself to be as he followed her through the market and across the square towards the tavern. But quickly forgetting about the scout as she had learnt to do after weeks of the same occurrence, her thoughts turned back to Vanora as she turned right to go through the kitchens into the tavern. She had always tried to walk this way, relishing in the sight of the kitchen and the smell of the food cooking, reminding her of the days at university and four years she had given to the craft.

'_Fat lot of good it does me now. At least I'll never have to pay my tuition fees back,' _she managed a small smile at that thought.

"Off with you, you drunken letch and I don't ever want to see your face here again!"

Like most days, Willow heard Vanora before she saw her, but this time she was truly amazed to see the fiery redhead forcefully pushing Barric, the tavern cook, out of the kitchen door she had been heading for, causing him to stumble and fall into a large puddle. As a result of her close proximity, Willow looked down at the cold feeling of her dress sticking to her legs and saw that the now, previously clean blue dress, had changed to a mucky brown from the muddy water of the splashed puddle.

"Nice aim," Willow grumbled sarcastically, shaking her leg to try and relieve the uncomfortable feel of the wet fabric.

"Now look what you've done to Willow's dress! I have half a mind to let Bors on you!" she continued at Barric, whose eyes widen in fear at her last threat. He quickly scrambled to his feet in an attempt to run away but, hindered by his inebriated state, only managed to drunkenly run into a nearby cart. Both women tried but failed to repress their laughter at the man's actions as they watched his failed attempts to get away.

"A little harsh Vanora," Willow giggled.

"Not really, Bors wouldn't have done anything, except maybe grunt at him and then just continued drinking," Vanora answered. Both women looked at each other and giggled again at the supposedly ferocious knight; both knew of the softer side of his personality.

"That son of a bitch, now there's no cook and supper hasn't even been prepared for this evening. You don't know of anyone who can cook for the tavern tonight? I would myself but I'm a few girls down tonight and so have to serve the entire place almost singlehandedly," Vanora pleaded to her friend.

"Urmmm... well..." Willow began hesitantly.

"Who? Spit it out! Please, if you know of anyone..." Vanora interrupted, frowning at the girl for dithering.

"Urmm, w-w-well I can cook," she told the barmaid. Vanora looked at Willow for a second before her face split into a huge smile, "You never told me you could cook! That's perfect, would you mind? I can ask around the tavern tonight for a permanent replacement but you would be saving my skin just this once."

"What about Terryn? Surely as landlord he should be doing this, not you," Willow asked as they walked into the kitchen and she looked around and drank in the familiar sight of the room. She had loved the kitchen since the first time Vanora had shown her the room. To Willow it was like one of the country kitchen that used to be advertised in the expensive interior design shops, although this kitchen had more character than the polished veneer those had portrayed. A large wooden table stood in the middle of the small room and was laden with vegetables, pots, large wooden bowls of assorted foods, cooking utensils and a number of pestle and mortar's in varying sizes. The dark floor had small barrels and buckets littered all around. The main part of the kitchen, which Willow loved the most, was the large stove in the corner, with its large brick base, on which pots and pans were placed and a long roasting spit hung over the fire which Barric had been trying to light before his forced departure. The large canopy hung over the stove, acting as the funnel to the chimney, and had a number of pans hanging from it while small alcoves under the base held the wood used for the fire.

Over the table in the middle, hanging from the ceiling beams, was a large wooden rack which sported large variety of herbs including sprigs of rosemary, thyme and mint. The smell of the room was one of a mixture of the herbs and smoke, making an altogether pleasant odour in Willow's opinion. Almost everywhere was covered in some form of food or utensil and the walls were no exception; large wooden shelves and cupboards housed more pots and plates and a good-sized pantry was tucked away in one of the corners. The kitchen was at the back of the tavern, off the main large room where the drinking and eating was done. Willow liked that, it afforded the cook some privacy and detachment from the usual drunken behaviour that the barmaids had to deal with, allowing a separate world for the cooking and food.

"Isn't it his job as owner mean he has to deal with the staff?" Willow continued as she looked round the kitchen, already tying her hair up and rolling up her sleeves.

"Ha!" Vanora huffed, "he told me that if I wanted Barric gone I had to get rid of him and find a replacement myself. He didn't care that he was a shitty cook who harassed the barmaids and was drunk more often than not. Apparently Terryn had owned Barric a favour from a while back so gave him work here. I knew he would be trouble from the first time I met him," she said vehemently, "you don't know how much you have saved my life Willow!"

She smiled at Vanora as she washed her hands in a bowl of water situated on a stool by the table, "You're more than welcome Vanora, though it's been a while since I have cooked in a kitchen, normally on the road we just have a camp fire and we've eaten here after performing most night. What was Barric planning for the food this evening?"

"Honestly, I have no clue, he's had the bread delivered at least but I'm not even sure if he ever planned anything but just threw things into the pot together and hoped for the best," Vanora continued to grumble about the former tavern cook, as she absentmindedly handed the temporary cook an apron from one of the many cupboards. Looking at the table Willow noticed a poorly chopped large piece of pork and searched in her mind for a recipe which she could adapt to fifth century cooking from what she knew of the available ingredients. She hurriedly hunted the kitchen supplies for what she thought she could use, while Vanora watched curiously. Willow was quite surprised of the variety the kitchen boasted which included olive oil and olives, asking her watching friend, she was told that it was due to the wide trade of the market and leftovers from the Roman soldiers stationed at the fort before their ordered withdrawal. She grabbed what she needed; onions, cider, salt and mustard, and placed the assortment of food on the table and looked at Vanora.

"Where do you keep the apples?" she asked but the redhead looked unsure at first before answering.

"Urmm...Well you see, no one eats the apples except Tristan, and so they're kind of his personal supply," she replied. Willow gave her an incredulous look.

"Where?" she asked again and watched as Vanora silently walked out the kitchen towards the bar. She returned shortly with a basket of large green apples.

"He's seen me move them, so be warned," Vanora cautioned. Dismissing her words, Willow grabbed the basket, adding it to her pile of produce and began to chop the onions.

"What are you going to cook," The barmaid asked, intrigued by Willow's use of the apples.

"Pork and apples in cider," She answered simply. Willow did not need to look up from her slicing to know what expression Vanora was wearing.

"You're cooking meat and fruit together?" She tried to keep the doubt out of her voice but Willow just chuckled at her friend.

"Hey, you asked for my help Vanora," she said over her shoulder as she placed the chopped onions into the nearby pan and started heating up the fire on the stove.

"Well if you need anything, I'll be serving drinks next door. Have it ready in about two hours okay?" Willow just waved the women away with a smile and turned back to make sure the onions weren't turning brown and started singing, happy at the serendipity of the situation. She was back in a kitchen and cooking after what felt like years.

"A bottle of white, a bottle of red,  
Perhaps a bottle of rosé instead.  
We'll get a table near the street,  
In our old familiar place,  
You and I - face to face hm, hm  
A bottle of red, a bottle of white  
It all depends upon your appetite…"

'_Guess my four years won't be completely wasted. Shit I'm rusty at this_' she thought as she tried her once effortless chopping technique with the apples and almost took off her baby finger. Soon she had browned the pork in another pan and added it to the now soft onions, which she had moved into the large cauldron, with some of the thyme from the rack over the table. Singing to herself as she worked she realised how much she missed the radio that she had always had playing in the background as she cooked at home.

Humming to herself, she headed quickly to the larger room and asked for some cider from Vanora, who handed her a small barrel that had been meant to be moved to the kitchen but the barmaid had not trusted it with Barric.

"Drinking on the job already?" Bors asked with a grin from his place beside the bar, "I thought that's why you got rid of Barric Van." His lover laughed before replying.

"Get this – she wants it for the food, same as with Tristan's apples." At this even Bors looked worriedly at Willow.

"Be careful sweetheart, he don't take kindly to people messing with them apples. I once tried to actually show the lads what I meant by using Eleven to hold an apple and before I could touch it; I was nursing a sore jaw for a week." He winced as he remembered the black bruising his face had developed after Tristan's punch. After that, no one had tried taking one of Tristan's apples without permission. Willow just repeated the look she had given Vanora earlier, when she had been similarly warned, at Bors.

"If it's that big of a deal I'll get him some more to restock the ones that I've used," she told the knight.

"Jeez, he sounds like a hormonal teenage girl with chocolate," she mumbled to herself as she walked back to the kitchen with the small keg under her arm, adding some to the cauldron and leaving the meat to cook for an hour. She smiled to herself as she couldn't help but imagine herself as a witch over the large bubbling black pot as she stirred the food. Walking over to the pantry, Willow thought about what she could serve alongside the dish but couldn't find a suitable vegetable. Settling on the bread that Barric had managed to have delivered from the baker earlier that day, she hadn't realised how much potatoes had become such a staple food in modern day diets.

'_Where's Francis Drake or Walter Raleigh when you need them?' _

She took stock of what the pantry contained, curious as to how it compared to what she remembered of her own in the twenty-first century.

'_I wonder if Becky ate everything I had? She always had my food before even starting hers,' _Willow wondered as she pottered around the kitchen humming after she had decided to clean up after herself. She loved the feeling of being in a kitchen again but knew that she would have to savour it with the family leaving the next day. Checking on the hot pot, she added in the chopped apples for them to cook slightly without turning to complete mush and mixed in some mustard. Tasting the sauce, she added some salt and after ten minutes, determined it was ready. Willow was always amazed at how time could pass her by unnoticed when she was cooking; she had spent two hours in the kitchen and felt sad that she would not be able to spend more time there after that evening. The sound of the rustling of skirts from the corridor of the tavern alerted her to the arrival of an already drained looking Vanora.

"Is it ready? I've got an order for four right now but I hope you've made enough as it's already busy out there. I think people are anticipating your family's last performance," she huffed, sad that her friend was leaving and tired with the already bustling tavern. Willow grabbed four plates from the shelves; lay down a thick piece of the bread before scooping the casserole from the cauldron and placing it on top of the bread, the smell making her mouth water. The entire kitchen smelled divinely of apples and cider. Vanora drew in a deep breath.

"Wow, doesn't look as bad as I thought it would and by the smell it shouldn't taste too bad either."

"Thanks for the compliment," Willow answered in a flat voice from the table as she finished the four plates, placing them on the large tray Vanora had handed to her and gave it back to the barmaid loaded up with the food. Vanora took the tray and inhaled the smell of the food again.

"Hmmm, mind saving some for the Numbers at the end?" Using the nickname given to the large group of kids. Willow laughed at sight of her friend, standing still with her eyes closed over the food and breathing in deeply.

"Careful, I think you might be dribbling onto the food Vanora," the comment earning her a playful shove on the shoulder from the passing barmaid as she turned towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Vanora asked as she noticed that Willow was following her out of the kitchen and towards the main room.

"I want to see what my consumers think of my cooking," she shrugged and placing with her hands on Vanora's shoulders, she steered her down the rest of the corridor towards the main room, before diving behind the bar and watched as the meal was delivered to its intended table.

* * *

**A/N: **_And so the plot thickens. You probably guessed that the cooking would come into it at some point... so the next chapter is up as well for your delectation and delight! _

_I'm actually amazed at all the lovely reviews I've got, thank you wonderful readers!_

_0white,as,snow0 – wow that was a quick review! Yeah, I feel mean for crushing her dreams of going home but it will be worth it in the end._

_Lolly – ah, we shall see if they leave... I'm not sure if she will speak to him again, I'll have to see where the plot takes me but probably – she's got some questions that need answering. _

_Allison – hmmm... you'll have to wait and see, gotta keep you on your toes but glad I'm helping to nurture the Tristan love :)_

_homeric - I like the idea of Dagonet having an interest thats more human than fighting... plus, like you said, him with a little lute is quiet a cute picture._

_The music, just one this chapter but its a golden oldie_

_Billy Joel – 'Scenes from an Italian Restaurant'_

_So onwards to Chapter 8!_

_Pitta x_


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

Huddled behind the bar and pretending to pick a mug up from the floor, Willow peered over the top of the wooden counter at the table which had just received the first order of the food. From what she could see from her position their initial reaction to the look of the food, as Vanora placed the plates in front of them, was mistrust. However, as the aroma of the it hit their senses, each seemed more willing to try their first bite.

"What are you doing down there?" Vanora asked, as she walked behind the bar and looked down at the crouching Willow.

"Shhhhh!" Willow hissed and with a strong tug, grabbed hold of Vanora's sleeve and dragged her down next to her. Vanora let out strange straggling cry by the surprise of the action before Willow could cover her mouth.

"Hush! I want to see how they like the food," Willow continued in a whisper but the feeling of moisture on her palm had her snapping her hand away and giving Vanora a disdainful look.

"Did you seriously just lick my hand?" The redhead just smiled at Willow.

"I've been spending too much with the kids," she sighed before bursting into laughter as Willow tried to wipe her hand on Vanora's dress which in turn began a short game of chase.

"Are you going to do any work this evening?" Terryn asked wearily from his stool. The women stopped and gave the man equal looks of disbelief.

"We're sorry Terryn, we didn't realise how much work you have been doing this evening, what with the cooking and serving of all the patrons in the tavern yourself," Vanora sarcastically apologised. The grumpy tavern landlord, realising his mistake at pissing off the barmaid, quickly found something about his mug incredibly interesting and avoided any eye contact with Vanora. With a nod at his corrected manner, she turned back to Willow and pointed at the patrons of her food again.

"Seeing as already half has been eaten and they show no sign of slowing down, I think it's safe to say that your food has been approved, especially as I took five more orders on my way back to the bar before you attacked me."

"Hey, you were the one who licked my hand like Seven would have," Willow answered back in a tone which placed her at about the same age as the six year old child. Vanora just chuckled, turned her around and pushed her back towards the kitchens. Willow followed the order and walked back down the corridor to the kitchen. She was happy that she had cooked something after so long and felt excited at all the tavern eating it after she had seen the initial positive reaction of the dish, particularly considering the population of the fifth century would not be used to it. She remembered being told at some point at University that meat and fruit wasn't a common combination for another thousand years in Britain but she decided to look at the introduction in the same way she did with the music, and it just meant they would be able to enjoy it for longer. Willow felt brave for having tried it as she had low expectations of the Dark Age food palate, all they seemed to eat was bread and meat. She sang joyfully to herself as she entered the kitchen and began to prepare the next round of dishes.

"This is a world of dreams and reverie  
Where I felt the stars explode around me  
A grass blade flashed with a gleam  
As it slashed open the moonbeam  
And I stared back breathlessly  
As mountains of fruit tumbled out  
I barely had the chance to shout  
A strawberry avalanche crash over me.

Staying awake that night was rather hard  
Deep in a sleeping bag in your back yard  
When we woke up buried alive  
Beneath the fruity landslide  
We both laughed hysterically  
It could've been just another dream  
But I swear I heard you scream  
A strawberry avalanche crash over me."

She even danced a few steps around the central table but stopped as she heard the two other barmaids, who must have finally made it into work, chattering as they walked down the corridor. Rosye and Elena, though friendly, were the type of girls which Willow had always tried to avoid when she had been at university. They were the kind that always looked for the drama in situations and revelled in listening and gossiping about rumours around the fort. Thankfully, with Vanora's help, they had been welcoming to Willow when her family had begun their employment at the tavern. They had even initially tried to involve her in their elaborate conversations but Willow had always politely resisted being drawn in and they had come to an amicable middle ground, the same as they had with Vanora, which suited Willow just fine. Vanora had stressed quietly to her that friendly relations with the two girls were an essential to ensuring a comfortable stay at the wall. They seemed to have the ear of most of the keep and Willow had been amused to hear some of the things they would talk about and was just thankful to have never been the subject or target of theirs.

She had heard that the barmaids were also involved with a few of the knights, though which ones was not always clear, though she noticed they stayed away from Tristan while flirting with all the others, though Bors was off limits of course. She had been confused at first until Rosye had told her that all the girls avoided Tristan as, not only did his strange silent nature unnerved the constantly talking girls, but also that they knew of his fearsome reputation of killing for pleasure during his long stay of service and his ability to stalk around silently didn't improve their opinion. The last reason had almost made her snort in Rosye's face but she had hidden it as a loud sneeze; she couldn't understand people's inability to not hear Tristan when he walked around. Though he did step more quietly compared to other people, she had always heard his footfalls as he followed her. She knew it couldn't be all due to having taken off the head cloth, the better hearing should have worn off after her ears readjusted, but she still always heard his footsteps whenever he came near her.

"Well well, seems as though someone has become a cooking sensation with this meal. Vanora's sent us back to pick up the next order and asks for nine more plates," Elena said, as she flicked her long brown hair over her shoulder.

"You had best save us some as well for later," Rosye stated as the two women took the large trays to go back to the tavern.

"I will, but be warned; Vanora has already asked to save some for the Numbers," Willow told them before they left.

The two women shared a look before turning back to Willow, "We'll just have to get here first; we all know how much the Numbers can stuff their faces!"

"I heard that," the mother of the children said from the doorway behind the two barmaids in a flat tone, causing them both to jump from the surprise and Willow to smile at the reaction, but Vanora continued in a more playful tone "It's their father you should be worried about, I swear that sometimes there isn't enough food in the world for that man to be satisfied." The four of them laughed together quietly at the truth of her words.

"Well, best get a move on ladies," she said to the other barmaids who took the orders to the waiting customers. She turned back to Willow, "I need six plates for the knights. They've finally decided to see what has made the tavern so quiet this evening." Willow looked at her confused.

"Everyone's silent and eating your food my love, I've never seen it so peaceful before!" she exclaimed laughing at the younger woman's expression. A small and satisfied smile crossed Willow's face as she prepared the six plates for the knights and handed them to Vanora.

"Let's just hope they enjoy it as well," she added as Vanora walked back to the main room. After that, Willow felt as rushed off her feet as the barmaids, who were constantly returning for newly laden plates. Finally her salvation came with Ysmay, who came to tell her that the family were going to be playing soon after they had had dinner. To save the other barmaids the added hassle, Willow grabbed one of the trays and set out the meal on five plates for the family and herself. Taking off the apron she remembered the state of her dress, with a sigh hunted for a clean one and retied it round her waist, checking the brown mark was covered by the beige material. Gathering up the tray and followed by Ysmay back to the tavern's main room, she couldn't help but sing to the girl a song when she considered her appearance as one of the serving barmaids.

"Be our guest! Be our guest!  
Put our service to the test.  
Tie your napkin 'round your neck, Cherie  
And we'll provide the rest

Soup du jour,  
Hot hors d'oeuvres,  
Why, we only live to serve  
Try the grey stuff,  
It's delicious!  
Don't believe me? Ask the dishes!"

She skipped and sang happily to Ysmay behind her, almost dropping one of the plates that slid across the tray from her quick movement.

"They can sing, they can dance  
After all, Miss, this is France  
And a dinner here is never second best

Go on, unfold your menu  
Take a glance and then you'll  
Be our guest  
Oui, our guest  
Be our guest!"

She twirled around to look at the giggling but confused Ysmay, who she realised would not understand some of the words she was singing, and stopped when she also realised that she was getting similar looks from some of the other patrons in the tavern. Walking quickly to the table the family was sat at; she passed out the plates to the family members and kept her head down. She could hear Rowan's stomach rumbling and saw the expression of hunger on the family's faces as they looked at the meal. They knew it was going to be tasty as they had all eaten many of Willow's meals as they had travelled across the country, but never with the added factor of a well stocked kitchen. Each member of the family's face was a picture to Willow as she watched them eat the food as she slowly tried hers, finding observing more interesting than eating. Rowan looked particularly funny, with some of the cider sauce dribbling down his small chin as he made sure to scrap every last morsel with torn pieces of his bread. Looking round at the rest of the unnaturally quiet tavern, Willow saw, more or less, the same situation of her table at all the others; people were scrapping their plates with spoons or bread to eat every last speck of the food. Even the knights were quiet in comparison to their usually loud and joking selves as they ate their servings of the food. Even Terryn had amazingly moved from his stool to one of the nearby tables to eat his own plate of the meal. Willow shook her head in disbelief at the circumstances of the tavern at that moment. She turned back to her meal and finished it off as the rest of her family began to ready their instruments having finished their own plates.

"That was pretty good Willow," Ysmay licked her lips to emphasis her point.

"You are welcome," the cook smiled, "What are we going to be playing?" She asked the rest of the family as they set out the five stools in front of their table.

"Well seeing as it is our last night, I think it would be nice to play a few extra than we normally would," Aiden offered.

"Ah, leave them wanting more and show them what they'll be missing," Willow answered, "well to manage that, would it be best to mix it up and play some which don't require all of us at once so some can take a break?" She proposed. The others agreed as their music could be energetic and tiring.

Ysmay looked at Willow, "What about that one which starts off slowly and then picks up in the middle? I can't remember the name though but it's a weird one; you know which one I mean right?"

Willow laughed, "Road to Errogie? But that means playing the flute," She looked down at her tin whistle in her hands and asked, "where about is it Rhiannon?" The older woman handed the long and beautifully craved instrument to her and Willow took a moment to run her fingers over the smooth and cool surface of the bone flute. She had not played it that much while at the fort; the tin whistle had been in much demand as people enjoyed the sound of the instrument they had never heard before. The flute was much longer than the whistle and was not Willow's favourite instrument. Though it had been a generous gift from Rhiannon and Aiden, having previously been used by Josslyn, it never failed to remind Willow of the many hated hours she had spent at school being forced to play the instrument in the orchestra as her tin whistle had been dubbed unsuitable by the snobby music teacher. She gave the flute a gentle blow and the note sounded clear over the growing noise of the tavern as people had now finished their meals. Willow nodded to the rest of the family, who had been watching her reacquaint herself with the flute. They decided on the other songs they would play and at which points the different members would play to relieve the others. The list was longer than Willow had expected and also noticed that she was playing in all of them. She didn't mind as she wanted to play as much tonight before they left and with all the songs were based around her whistle, she was happy to comply with the selection chosen.

The family all stood and took their seats for the first jig; Willow was not going to dance as she felt she needed all her concentration on the instrument in her hands for the duration of this particular song. The eyes of the tavern had landed on the musicians and the audience waited for the music to begin. Gently and quietly Aiden and Rhiannon both began to play their lute and harp to start and soon Willow joined in with the soft notes of the flute, closing her eyes in concentration of the notes she had to play on the different instrument. The combining sounds of the lute, harp and flute created a serene sound throughout the tavern, harmonising and playing together smoothly as the song dictated. Then, after several minutes, the beat of Rowan's bodhrán and Ysmay's viol picked up the slow tempo to a much faster jig to which a number of the tavern patrons began to clap along time with the rhythm. There was no dancing at that point, as Willow imagined most were still full from the dinner they had just eaten, and the jig was also happened to be a short one. The song finished to a loud applause and the family moved straight onto the next one, named 'The Dusty Miller' that involved Ysmay and Willow mainly. Both girls nodded to each and Willow started, again with her flute, with Ysmay joining in quickly for the more lively song, both tapping their feet to the rhythm as Rowan began his bodhrán drumming and Aiden and Rhiannon soon followed with their instruments to complete the melody. Having allowed time for their food to settle, a few brave audience members began to dance in the open space in the middle of the tavern.

Willow recognised a few of the faces in the crowd and a certain few she realised should not have been there but the distinct faces of Bors and Vanora's Numbers and Lucan all looked out from the audience at the dancers and the musicians as the song came to an end, and clapped enthusiastically. Grabbing her tin whistle and smiling at Rowan, the two started the first of the songs which allowed Rhiannon, Aiden and Ysmay a break. Rowan had requested specifically 'Maid on the Green' because he knew that it was played by just him and Willow and was one which she enjoyed dancing to. Feeling more familiar with the tin whistle, Willow stood and made her way to the middle of the tavern as well and set off playing the quick jig as the dancers around her twisted and twirled to the fast tune. She too began to move around the tavern, skipping to and fro from different tables of patrons but suddenly found herself surrounded by the Numbers and Lucan who all proceeded to join hands and dance around her as she played. Finishing the fast tune, Willow found herself swarmed by the children as they all tried to crowd her at the same time. She laughed at the children's actions and she turned to see that Aiden was back in place next to a waiting Rowan and ready to start off the next song they had decided on. She quickly dodged out the children's grasps and started on the equally fast jig 'Eb Reels'. But as she started to dance again, Willow realised that the children were still following her and on seeing the horde trailing behind her, Willow processed to lead the long line of children around the tavern as she played, feeling distinctly similar to the piped piper of Hamlin.

The next few songs were played in quiet succession. For 'The Jug of Brown Ale', a loud cheer rose from Bors when its name was announced to the tavern, Rhiannon swapped positions with Rowan and gave the young bodhrán player's wrist and arm a rest. But soon, as the song finished, both Rowan and Ysmay were back and ready to play 'Happy Jigs' for the tavern. 'Flogging the Reel' and 'The Donegal Set' were played in quick succession, the first by Willow and Rowan and the latter by the whole family again. The dancing had been intense and lively to keep up with the music but many of the dancers still implored for more tunes from the family. Willow also had yet to begin to feel the fatigue which she knew she would eventually but the adrenaline of the evening kept her lively and she enjoyed 'Toss the Feathers' with Rowan and Ysmay, 'The Wheels of the World' with Aiden and then 'Joy of Life' with the two younger children again. Even by the time that it came for Ysmay to play 'Cherish the Ladies' as a solo, the only song in which she did not play, Willow did not yet want to sit down and grabbed Nine, placed the toddler on her hip and spun them around to the song, causing wild laughter from the young girl. The crowd clapped loudly at the end of Ysmay's solo and Willow grinned at the musician who had always stayed away from being the centre of attention. Still holding the child, Willow moved to the stools which the family had been performing from, as they have gone to get some much needed drinks, and placed her in the empty seat beside her and played to the girl her own solo 'The Mountain Pathway'. The girl, delighted at her special attention from Willow, beamed at her and clapped along with the song. Soon the other Numbers and Lucan joined Nine and all were played to by Willow while the adults danced to the jig. As Willow played the song, she hoped that the children would remember it as she wished it could serve as her own goodbye to children who she had befriended at the fort. The next tune was to be the final one that the family's would play and so all took their places next to Willow and she alone stood and addressed the smiling crowd.

"I'm afraid this is the last song of the evening from us," Willow smiled to herself when a few of the smiles in the crowd were dropped and some grumbled at her words, "as you know we head for the South tomorrow but we want to thank you all as we have felt greatly welcomed here. This is 'The Winds from the South.'" Willow sat back down and readied the bone flute for the sedate song. She watched as the crowd began to dance in a slow and more intimate way as couples held each other and swayed to the music. The knights, she noted, almost all had partners; Bors was, of course, with Vanora while their children danced in pairs around them, Lancelot danced with Alvina, another red haired barmaid who Willow had thought was a sweet girl but was definitely a few cards short of a deck, Gawain and Galahad danced with Rosye and Elena and even Dagonet was dancing with Paige, whose father ran the blacksmiths. Only Tristan sat alone at the knight's table, his gaze on Willow as she played the song. Her gaze was likewise upon him and both seemed to refuse to drop their own until the break in the song that Willow was not required to play. She dropped the flute for the moment and held the same passive expression which Tristan gave her, never breaking their eye contact as she changed her instrument and placed the tin whistle to her mouth for her next part in the tune. The scout stood as Willow watched him, she thought he was going to dance with Lena, the only barmaid not with a partner and who was standing close to the table, but the knight broke his stare and turned on his heel and walked out of the tavern without so much of a backwards glance as Willow's eyes followed him out the door.

* * *

Tristan shook his head to clear it as he stood just outside the doorway of the tavern. The soft swell of the music floated around him as he stood in the darkness of the night. The girl's gaze had felt like a magnetic pull on him and surfaced feelings he was unwilling to think about. He had wondered, when she had not come into the tavern after entering the kitchen earlier that afternoon, what she had been doing and she had, like most days, clouded his thoughts to anything else. When Vanora had taken out his basket of apples from behind the bar and walked with them to the kitchen, his suspicions about her doings had only heightened. Furthermore, when the barmaid had come over with the food that had managed to make the entire tavern silent, Tristan had been surprised and a little annoyed to find that there were apples in the meal. His annoyance had built as the other knights had begun to make comments about his selfishness for hording the apples when they tasted the food. Subsequently, the family had played their music for the evening and the girl had danced all night and he found that he eyes refused to look anywhere else other than her.

He had had to pinch himself hard, when the one opportunity arose that she had the chance to dance with a partner, he had felt a surge of angry rush through him as he watched Lancelot begin to stand with his eyes intent on her, but smirked when she had picked up Nine instead, not giving Lancelot a single look. It had been worth the bruise on his leg he had given himself. But during the last song he had needed to get out from underneath her gaze, which had not swayed even as she switched playing instruments seamlessly. Tristan felt unnerved by the girl still, even after weeks of watching her.

He still didn't even know her name he thought as he listened to ending of the song. He thought he would have picked it up by now, considering the heroine-worship Lucan had gushed about her to Dagonet for days after her family had arrived but he had never caught it. Nor from Bors, Vanora, Jols or Dagonet who were the only ones who knew the girl. To his surprise, his focus back in the present moment, he heard her address the crowd in her clear voice and another song began to play, one of a much faster tempo. Against his better judgement, he turned and stood in the door frame and watched as the golden haired girl swayed one last time to the rhythm of the music.

* * *

**A/N:** _So Chapter 8 - meeting a few more characters and hear a little more of what's going on inside that quiet (but sexy) head of Tristan's. Chapter 9 follows straight on from this but reviews for the previous two would be great still – thank youuu! _

_Music: Soooo much in this one but mostly instrumental and a lot of Celtic folk. its all written in the order it appears in the fic._

_Owl City – 'Strawberry Avalanche'  
__Alan Menken – 'Be Our Guest'  
__Flook – Road To Errogie  
__The Chieftains – 'The Dusty Miller'  
__Mary Bergin – 'Maid On The Green'  
__Flook – Eb Reels  
__Clannad – 'Jug Of Brown Ale'  
__Flook – 'Happy Jigs'  
__Mary Bergin – 'Flogging The Reel'  
__The Chieftains – 'The Donegal Set'  
__The Corrs – 'Joy Of Life'  
__Mary Bergin – 'The Wheels Of The World'  
__Paddy Glackin – 'Cherish The Ladies'  
__Mary Bergin – 'The Mountain Pathway'  
__The Chieftains – 'Winds From The South' and then finally 'Away We Go Again'_

_Right – Chapter 9 to go!_

_Pitta x _


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

The crowd had cheered and clapped as the family finished playing.

"Give us another one!" Willow heard from the crowd, she was pretty sure it had come from Gawain.

"Aye! A lively one to have one last dance to," Galahad called out adding to Gawain's request. The family looked at one another in question.

"Shall we?" Aiden asked them and all happily nodded in answer, "What shall we play?"

"Away We Go Again," Ysmay and Rowan said in the same instant as if reading the other's mind. The three adults laughed at the two children's synchronised answer.

"Your arm is not going to be too tired to play, will it Rowan?" Willow cautiously questioned the little drummer as it had been the longest they had played in a while. He shook his head and played a quick beat to show his enthusiasm.

"Willow, would you be so kind as to inform the audience of our last song," Rhiannon asked as she too plucked a few strings on her harp in readiness. In her own eagerness, Willow leapt from her seat. She stood silently looking at the crowd before smiling broadly at their faces.

"We shall play one more for you. It's called 'Away We Go Again'," Rowan began the beat on the bodhrán and soon Willow's whistle joined him as she swayed to the music, deciding on not dancing as fatigue was beginning to stiffen her limbs. Ysmay's viol soon began and the tavern cheered as they started to dance again in their previously spirited manner. As Rhiannon's harp began the second section of the song, Willow had to turn around to pick up and change to the flute quickly before the quick switch back to her whistle. On her turn back to the crowd with her flute she saw, in the corner of her eye, Tristan watching her again from the tavern doorway. She was sure he had left and something in inside of her registered a twinge of satisfaction that he had not gone. The song picked up in tempo again so she focused back on the crowd.

With the end of the song, Willow was glad that the family were not asked to play again as all of them were now distinctly tired from playing for so long. The crowd just cheered again loudly and began to make their way home as Terryn was closing the tavern for the night. Willow watched as Vanora gave Bors and each of the Numbers a kiss goodnight as he led them out towards the family's quarters in the knights' barracks in main building of the fort. Vanora was staying behind to clean up and Willow felt guilty as she had cooked the food and would be leaving the redhead with all the mess. Looking around, her thoughts were confirmed when she saw that Rosye, Elena and Alvina had all left with a knight each without a backwards glance at the state of the tavern and Lena was nowhere to be seen. Willow walked over to Rhiannon and Aiden who were sorting out the instruments to take back to the cottage for their last night.

"I'm going to stay a bit longer and help Vanora with the cleaning up," she told the two parents. They both approved that it was the right thing to do and told her to be extra careful when walking back alone across the fort later on. She reassured them, waved goodbye and once the tavern had completely emptied, walked over to Vanora whose expression of pure exhaustion proved to Willow that her decision had been correct. What she had not been expecting was Vanora then spoke to her about.

"You know, I asked around and no one knows of anyone who could be the tavern's cook. In fact many laughed at me when I asked and said they couldn't understand why I was asking when the food they were eating was so good" She said, her back was turned to Willow as the women stood by one of the tables and collected the dirty dishes. Without turning to look at her, Vanora continued.

"What they all said got me thinking, why should I look for another cook? You have been the best this place has ever had. You managed to get the entire place to shut up for once and that happens once in a blue moon and you've stayed behind to help clean up, something I don't think ever entered into Barric's head." She finally looked at Willow who was standing next to her, unmoving and looking intently at the redhead.

"I even spoke to Terryn after he had eaten his serving and I've never heard the man speak in anything other than a miserable tone but tonight he was almost animated after your food and implored me to employ whoever cooked this evening." The words took a while to sink into Willow conscious as Vanora stood next to her with a hopeful look on her face.

"What?" Willow asked as if Vanora had spoken to her in gibberish.

"He even said that he would pay above and beyond what he had paid Barric," her look turning into a wide grin.

"...You're offering me the job of cook... here... at the tavern... at the fort?" Willow managed to ask. Vanora just nodded silently but was only returned an equally silent look of disbelief from Willow. She felt like her mind was working like she had not slept for days and was being particularly slow at comprehending what Vanora was telling her.

"...You want to employ me to cook... in that kitchen," Willow pointing in the direction of the room, "...for money... here at the Wall?" Vanora just nodded again.

Willow couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was being offered to stay at the wall and be able to cook, in a kitchen, with a wealth of supplies, with a large beautiful stove, with wonderful pots and pans, with fruits and vegetables, with spices and herbs from the market, in a safe place and not fear about travelling largely unprotected across the country. But realisation hit Willow like a punch in the stomach, she wasn't sure she could bear to leave Rhiannon, Aiden, Ysmay and Rowan. They had been her family for almost two years and had welcomed her into their lives without a second thought. The idea of leaving them made Willow want to almost cry, they had been the only family she had known since her grandfather had died eleven years ago. But the logical side of her mind did inform her that this was an opportunity to gain her independence and earn her own way in this world. There was also the part of her mind that reminded her how much she had enjoyed cooking that afternoon and being back in a kitchen and how much she had liked living at the fort over the past few weeks. She was completely torn and turned her gaze back to Vanora, who she saw had been reading the mixture of emotions that had crossed her face as she thought about the offer.

"I'll have to think about it. You're asking me to leave my family and I'm just not sure if I'll just be able to do that Vanora." The barmaid looked deflated as Willow spoke. "Though the job does sound amazing and I would love to work here with you," she tried to improve her friend's mood. Not to go without a fight, Vanora tried more to encourage Willow.

"The pay is fifteen Argentus and three Nummus a month." Willow had not completely grasped the value of money in this time but she did know that twenty silver Argentus went into a single Solidus which was a large gold coin which was worth a lot. But she still could not be sure of whether to stay; she shook her head and continued to reach for used plates on the tables around the tavern.

"I would need to talk to Aiden and Rhiannon before I decide anything."

"Alright, fine!" Vanora spoke loudly, her hands held out in front of her, "I'm sure I can convince Terryn to offer you more. You know, you drive a hard bargain." Feeling like she had done enough to persuade Willow to stay and take the job she continued to happily bustle around and collect mugs as Willow had managed most of the plates. They worked in silence to begin with, ferrying the used utensils back to kitchen before returning and gathering the rest, all the while, Willow thinking more about what Terryn and Vanora were offering her.

A job as a woman was not common place at the time, besides being a barmaid, seamstress or prostitute and yet even then the pay was not that much. What was being offered was something which would never happen for most women and Willow couldn't help but feel slightly excited at the prospect though her apprehension still clouded her mind.

"Sing us a song as we finish up?" Vanora requested from her friend, hoping to end the silence. Willow nodded and pushed the whirling and conflicted thoughts out of her head and tried to think of a song to sing. She was not self-conscious about singing in front of Vanora, who had heard her sing enough during her stay that she had even asked to be taught a few songs.

"I don't know what to sing," Willow admitted after a while having drawn a blank of a suitable song to sing for the barmaid.

Vanora's brow frowned as she thought, "How about one that tells a story?"

"I think I know of one," Willow replied, deciding on one which she loved to sing with Ysmay as she playing her viol. The redhead happily listened to the words Willow sang as they finished clearing the tables.

"Out of the moonlight in the month of May,  
This ship would take her last breath.  
Her full mast it was draping,  
Like a mermaid she was dressed.  
Her lonely heart is setting free,  
All her cares they went sailing out to sea.

And all those people they gathered round,  
Flocked to view that lovely sight.  
And all young maidens came to town,  
They waved her out into the night.  
Her lonely heart is setting free,  
As all her cares they went sailing out to sea.

She tried to clear the rocks with swelling sails,  
The ocean beat her every time,  
And with a crack her body failed.  
The sea engulfed and filled our eyes.  
Lonely heart is setting free,  
As all her cares they went sailing out to sea  
I can hear her calling, I can hear her calling  
I can hear her calling back to me.

When the news returned to the town,  
Every maid sat on the pier,  
With lovers lost and fathers never found,  
For now that mermaid's dressed in tears.  
Her lonely heart is setting free,  
As all our prayers they went sailing out to sea.

I can hear her calling, I can hear her calling,  
I can hear her calling back to me  
Now that mermaid's dressed in tears,  
I feel that mermaid's dressed in tears,  
I can see that mermaid's dressed in tears."

Soon the main part of the tavern was clear and the kitchen was spotless as the women exchanged a few more songs as they worked and found the work had passed quicker. Willow was fond of listening to Vanora sing as her voice was deeper than hers and she loved the harmony their voices made when together.

Both were very tired when the time came for them to leave. Vanora gave Willow a hug and reminded her again to think about the offer of the job before dismissing it and she headed off to the Knight's quarters, a short walk from the tavern. Willow had the longer walk back across the now deserted square and market. She had made the walk a hundred times during her time at the fort but tonight it was different, it was only her walking, the sound of her footsteps and necklace seemed loud as they echoed against the stone walls she past. However, just at the point that she was considering to start running, the moon was mostly cover and the dark was making her mind race with potential gruesome situations happening to her, she felt the accustomed feeling of Tristan's gaze on her. She did not know where he was watching her from but his watch over her made her feel safe, as if it was a protective blanket wrapped around her. No longer afraid she continued on to the cottage and but still sighed in relief when she saw the candle light in the windows, signifying that either Rhiannon or Aiden were still awake, probably waiting for her to return.

Willow hurried to get to the little cottage quicker and thinking about the warm bed that was waiting for her that she did not notice, what she could only image to be an old sack made from animal skin, on the ground until she managed to trip over it but righted herself before she fell flat on her face. She felt her cheeked heat up and thanked that it was dark enough that Tristan would not be able to see her embarrassment. Looking back at what had made her stumble, she noticed that the large bag was filthy and even had some blood on it. Willow bent to pick it up but snatched her hand away immediately when the furry sack let out a small whine. Bending back down and telling herself to grown a backbone, Willow went to pick up the noisy sack again and found it to be a dog. From the little amount of light that the candle in the cottage window allowed, it looked to be a young mastiff of only a few months old she reckoned, though it was still large for a pup. She gathered up the dog, which seemed to be too hurt to protest and holding the dog to her chest as it felt too cold for her liking, walked into the cottage with the animal. Once inside, she swiftly placed the dog on the floor by the fire and went into the kitchen for a bowl of water and a mug if she needed to help it to drink. But placing the water next to it, the dog managed to move its head next to the bowl and began to drink slowly at first, but gained urgency at the taste of the water on its tongue. Getting up again, Willow managed to find some dried meat and bread leftovers in the kitchen and placed them too next to the dog's head. Willow examined the young dog and found that, luckily, none of its bones seemed to be broken and that the blood had come from a number of shallow cuts across the puppy's back. She cleaned the wounds and gently stroked the dog's back. It had dark fur that had a lighter brown colour in an almost striped pattern over its entire body while its whole face was completely black. The sound of soft footsteps alerted Willow to the presence of Rhiannon and Aiden behind her as they entered the main room.

"Who's the new addition?" Aiden asked chuckling. Both were familiar with Willow's love for the abandoned, Varden being the large and temperamental reminder of the young woman's soft heart.

"Duke," Willow smiled, naming the male dog after the red setter her grandfather had when he was alive. She had loved both of her grandfather's dogs and had similarly been high in their affections, from the sloppy welcome she had always received from them to the secret nights she would let both, Duke and Lady, sleep on her bed with her, unbeknown to her grandfather. Coming forward, the two adults bent down and examined the puppy as it ate the bread Willow was holding out for it, but on seeing their approach, Duke whimpered and pressed himself against Willow's lap and tried to hide itself behind her.

"It would appear we have another one who will only befriend you," Rhiannon noted softly as the dog nuzzled its head into Willow's hand.

"Vanora and Terryn have offered me the position of cook at the tavern," Willow told the two of them in a straight manner, not wanted to avoid the matter that had been plaguing her mind since Vanora had mentioned the job. Rhiannon and Aiden exchanged a look, they both knew that cooking was something that Willow had trained to do in her own time before meeting them and had proven many times her skill with food for the family. They also had observed the lift in Willow's spirits since the night of the banquet at the great hall and after Merlin had spoken to her. Whether she noticed it herself, they had seen her shoulders lift from the slumped position they had been in for a while. Additionally, Willow had made friends here, which had not occurred before in any of the other places they had stopped at, preferring to say close to the family and not let any humans in, Varden had been a big surprise to them when she had led back the starving young stallion. Through their silent exchanged Willow had merely continued reassuring the pup and stroking his back until he had fallen asleep with his head resting on her lap. Finally the two turned to watch Willow were she sat on the floor next to the sleeping dog.

"You should take it," Aiden said after the long silence. Willow looked up at them both with a look in her eyes which needed not to be voiced.

"You love living here, that's clear to us and now you're finally being granted the opportunity to cook, which you have been wishing for since we have met you. You have friends here who we know will look after you and you have Merlin's words to heed," Rhiannon explained. Still Willow did initially not speak right away but hung her head and thought about Merlin's words which he had spoken to her weeks ago.

"Everything that has happened was meant to be; otherwise it would not have led you here," She murmured the words the mysterious Pict had spoken.

"Does that necessarily mean I should stay here? It could just be about being in this time, not a specific location," She wondered out loud. It was Rhiannon, who responded again to her quietly spoken thought.

"I believe it was meant as here at the fort, if you were to come with us, we would worry that you would not be happy but at least now you would have a job to support yourself while you find the fate Merlin spoke of."

"I know that I would love the job and to stay here at the fort but how can I leave you two? Or Ysmay? Or Rowan?" Willow whispered; her voice harsh from trying to hold in the emotion that threaten to overcome her, "You have been like a family to me, how could I turn my back on that?"

"You would not be turning your back on us," Aiden insisted, "All parents, whether real or adopted, must let their children go and make their own life at some point. We are just glad that this place is suitable for you; you have good friends in Vanora and Dagonet here, who will watch over you when you need help. Anyway, you are old enough to manage yourself. We shall miss you terribly and I have no idea how we will break the news to Rowan and Ysmay but they will come to understand the decision."

"Besides," Rhiannon added, "we shall travel back before too long after we have stayed with Jossyln and we shall be able to see what you have made of yourself." She yawned and added, "I'm exhausted so I'm off to bed, goodnight my dear." She gave Willow a hug and kissed the younger woman's head before straightening up and walking out of the room to her and Aiden's bedroom, so that Willow would not see the tears escaping from her eyes. Aiden and Willow watched her retreating form and turned their heads back to watch the dying flames of the fire.

"How long will you be gone?" Willow finally asked in a small voice, breaking the silence that the two had been in. Aiden was surprised that she had spoken again, they had come to recognise when Willow was upset as she always became silent, which had been unnerving at first as they were so used to her constant noise.

"Probably a year, Arthur's ask us to return for the next senate feast he liked us so much the first time," Aiden shrugged in response. Willow nodded and continued to stroke the puppy.

"Looks like Ysmay will be getting her wish finally," he chuckled softly and then answered Willow's questioning look, "I doubt that Varden would be willing to leave you or obey me without your help, so I guess I will need to find that pony I promised her six months ago. But I'm sure we will be able to find one on the way to Josslyn's."

"What about Herne, will he be able to manage pulling the wagon half the way there by himself?" Willow asked.

"Don't be fooled by that lazy horse, he's younger than he makes out," Aiden reassured.

"Well,I don't know what I'll do with a lonely Varden; he's been with Herne constantly since I found him. I'm not looking forward to dealing with that," Willow answered, smiling briefly, knowing the fuss she was going to have to deal with from the horse.

Aiden looked at the young woman who he knew the whole family would miss terribly. She had turned up out of nowhere and won a place in all their hearts. He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, before laying a hand on Willow's head.

"I'd suggest you get some sleep, it's going to be a long day tomorrow and you'll need your strength if we're going to be successful in prying Rowan and Ysmay off you. We'll miss you Willow. Do us proud little one," He said with a sad smile. Having returned to her pensive silence, Willow nodded and returned his sad smile and watched him walk out the room, just as she had done when Rhiannon had left earlier. She sat for a while longer, listening to the silence of the house, except the crackling of the fire as it gradually reduced to embers, casing a warm glow over her and the sleepy puppy. After a short while, she picked up the dog gently, so as not to wake it, carried him to the bedroom she shared with Ysmay and Rowan and sat down on her own bed. Looking at the two sleeping child to check she had not woken them, Willow gently covered herself and the dog, as she tucked the animal into her body to keep it warm, with her thin woollen blanket. She snuggled down and tried to not think of what the next day would bring; knowing that that thought process would only lead to keeping her awake for the rest of the night.

* * *

**A/N: **_Yeeeeah __you've got to have known she was never going to be leaving the fort, otherwise it would have been a bit of a short fic! So she's staying and has gained a dog, lil Duke :) he's meant to look like a dark fawn-brindle mastiff at around 3 months old (I don't know if I described him well enough)_

_The money mentioned is from the Diocletain values of Roman money. __Wiki explains it better than I ever could so probably best to check it out if your interested._

_Music:_

_Seth Lakeman – 'Lady of the Sea' - this is the acoustic version which had an extra verse which explains the story better so I chose that one then the music video version._

_Thanks for reading and I hope you liked all three chapters_

_Pitta x _


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer__: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

_

* * *

_

It had taken a long time to disentangle Rowan from around Willow's waist, even with the addition of the hopeful distraction of the puppy had only proven to be short lived, as soon upon the children's waking it had run out the small cottage and off into the market place. Willow didn't worry as she knew that Duke would most likely be able to find her again if he needed to. However, the dog did not deter the boy's resolve and when Willow had transferred her things from the wagon to the tavern kitchen, Rowan had refused to let go of her, which had made walking very difficult. Nonetheless, she secretly thanked him for the attention; Ysmay had refused to speak to her since she broke the news to them that she was staying at the wall. As Willow helped Aiden tack up Herne and attach him to the wagon, she gave the horse one last hug round the neck and an apple she had taken from the kitchen earlier.

"Varden is going to miss you Herne," she whispered to the horse, "be strong and steady for them and help protect them when they need you." The horse answered with a nudge of her hand as he sniffed to see if she had any more apples for him. With one last laugh at the horse's greedy nature and a pat on his neck, Willow walked over to where Aiden was talking to Dagonet, who along with Bors and Vanora, with all the Numbers and Lucan, and even Terryn, had come to say goodbye to the troubadour family.

"Here, take this Dagonet, from what Rhiannon and Willow have told me, you are will need it for your practice," Aiden said as he handed his well used lute to Dagonet. The knight looked genuinely amazed at the gesture and hesitantly took the instrument.

His overly large fingers delicately stroked the strings and traced the ebony neck, "Thank you Aiden, but won't you need it?" He asked.

Aiden smiled and shook him head, "Fear not, I managed to find another at the market for a good price."

Dagonet looked relieved and then clapped his free hand hard on Aiden's shoulder and gave him a silent farewell before turning and walking away. The large knight had never been good at sentimental goodbyes. Willow watched him walk away and then faced the large group of children who were saying their goodbyes to Rowan and Ysmay who they had become friends with during their stay. She stood in silence and watched as each hugged and joked with the two children to lighten the sadness of their departure. A tug on the bottom of her dress made Willow look down to see Nine standing next to her.

"Why you quiet Willow?" the little girl asked. Needing the comfort, Willow bent down and picked up and cuddled the toddler as she continued to watch the other children.

"I just don't like saying goodbyes Nine," she murmured forlornly into the child's hair.

"But they come back," she smiled as Willow breath tickled her ear. Willow looked down at Nine and returned her smile; the astuteness of children had always been one of the reasons she loved them so much. Unlike adults they did not feel the need to avoid subjects or gloss over things.

"Yes, yes they will." She hugged the child tighter and walked over to the large group of children, who had all finished giving Rowan and Ysmay a hug each. As she came closer both children looked over at her and, though she received a sad smile from Rowan, Ysmay looked at her with just an expression of disappointment and walked over to Rhiannon who was bidding farewell to Vanora. Watching his sister's actions, Rowan reattached his arms around Willow's waist and spoke with his face pressed into her side.

"She just isn't ready to say goodbye yet."

Willow patted the boys head, bent to kiss it and then walked over with him to Aiden and Rhiannon who were waiting by the wagon. She passed Nine back to her mother and was immediately engulfed in a bone breaking hug from Rhiannon, joining her son in encircling Willow.

"Be good," she whispered into Willow's ear, managing to somehow squeeze even tighter. Understanding that a lack of breath was worth it, Willow just hugged her back and was happily surprised when Aiden joined in the group hug. He felt no need to say anything to Willow, having said his goodbye the previous night. When oxygen began to become vital, both released her and stepped away and Aiden headed to the front of the wagon while Rhiannon climbed into the back. Rowan finally let go and looked up at Willow.

"Sing... please... one last time?" He asked as he then followed his mother into the wagon. Willow nodded and looked over at the still sulking Ysmay as she began to sing.

"You'll remember me when the west wind moves,  
Among the fields of barley  
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky,  
When we walked in fields of gold

So she took her love for to gaze awhile,  
Among the fields of barley  
In his arms she fell as her hair came down,  
Among the fields of gold."

Ysmay's head snapped up at the sound of Willow's voice. She looked at the young woman she considered an older sister and listened to the words of the song as Willow sang to her and her departing family.

"Will you stay with me will you be my love  
Among the fields of barley  
And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky  
When we walked in fields of gold.

I never made promises lightly,  
And there have been some that I've broken.  
But I swear in the days still left,  
We will walk in fields of gold.  
We'll walk in fields of gold."

Running to her, Ysmay followed her mother's actions, and wrapped her arms around Willow and buried her head in her shoulder, unable to stop the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks. Stroking her hair, Willow gently rocked the girl before wiping away her tears and kissing Ysmay's forehead.

"Be seeing you," she whispered softly to the girl, who in return wordlessly nodded and with one last tight hug, walked back to the wagon and climbed in beside her mother and brother. A snap of the reigns sounded as Aiden signalled Herne to begin their long journey to the South. Coming to the finish the song, she sang loud enough that they would hear it as they rode away.

"I never made promises lightly,  
And there have been some that I've broken.  
But I swear in the days still left,  
We will walk in fields of gold.  
We'll walk in fields of gold.

You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Among the fields of barley  
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky  
When we walked in fields of gold  
When we walked in fields of gold  
When we walked in fields of gold."

And then she just stood there, in what felt like deafening silence outside the gate and waved goodbye to the closest thing she had had to a family in a very long time.

* * *

Looking down from the top of the battlements of the wall at the leaving wagon, several of the knights stood in silence listening to the ending of the song which the girl was singing to the departing family. Even the usual jovial Gawain merely stood and listened to the clear voice as it drifted up to their position. Both Galahad and Lancelot were also silent and listened to the sad tone of the girl's song, making them all think of those who they had had to leave behind in the past as well. Tristan watched the other knights as he stood behind them, listening himself as he pensively bit into an apple. He had been unsure what to think upon finding out that the girl was staying. Though he had resigned himself to her leaving, he found himself surprisingly grateful to Vanora and Terryn for offering her the kitchen job; both had managed to make the girl stay longer at the fort for him to watch. He had reconciled himself to the fact that when she went, he would never have found out what it was that made her so different from everyone else, but now that she was staying, Tristan felt almost eager at the prospect of discovering her secrets that were the cause of the her distinction.

"Do you think our families, if their still out there, ever think of us?" He heard Galahad ask them, his voice quiet so as not to disrupt the singing. However his words broke the spell of the knight's thinking and all he received as an answer was a snort and punch in the arm from Gawain and slap round the head from Lancelot. Tristan's mouth curved into a slight smirk at the other knight's actions and slowly walked away, his footsteps as silent as he could manage. He always took pleasure in startling those around him with the stealth of his movements. The ability had been hard to learn and taken him years to perfect so he was not ashamed of his pride in their fright whenever he would be behind them without their notice or when they would turn around and find him gone. Thinking on that thought, he realised that, though he could count their face to face meetings on one hand, he could not remember ever surprising the girl.

Tristan reflected more on that point; it was not as if she was equal in his skill of stealth. Even a deaf was probably always able to hear wherever she was; her singing, humming and necklace were forever making noise. But even on the first day that they had met in the stables, he had noticed that she had seen him walk up to Jols; even if he had been sure to make no noise as he knew she was there. Remembering the stables pushed his thoughts on to her horse that he had seen earlier that morning when he had checked on Odana. Her strangely coloured ride had been very restless as Jols had led out it's stable mate, which he had then seen connected up to the family's wagon as the girl softly spoke to it and given the horse one of his apples. His thoughts now on his apples, as he threw away his finished core, were that if she was staying he was going to have to talk to her about the proper use of them. He thought he had been generous the previous night by not mentioning to her when she had used them for the meal. But now that she was remaining, another stunt like that was not going to happen with his apples, not if he had anything to do with it.

He looked back as he made his way to the knight's quarters, with the intent on sharpening his set of daggers which he had neglected since the young woman's arrival. He did not feel it necessary just then to follow her; with her staying at the wall he would now have a longer time to observe her and he was sure he would see her at the tavern soon to discuss the apples situation. He watched as the girl finished waving goodbye to the now out of sight wagon and was pulled into a motherly hug by Vanora, who was then followed by Bors, then Lucan and then the rest of the Numbers, until only the top of her bright hair was visible underneath the large group hug. He noted that Terryn had already left to go back to his bar stool even before the family had departed. The girl's laugh from the gesture floated over to him as if carried on a non-existent breeze. The sound was an infectious one that would cause anyone who listened to smile in response. Tristan found he was not impervious to this and felt a small twitch in his mouth that many would have been considered a grin in relation to his history in facial expression. At the appearance of Arthur, however, Tristan schooled his features into their usual impassive place as his commander spoke.

"What's the occasion?" He indicated to the large group of bodies that were still surrounding the girl by the gate.

"Her family left. She's staying and working at the tavern as cook," Tristan replied.

Arthur nodded to the scout's direct answer, "Have you come across anything that makes you suspicious of her staying here? I know that you have reported that she is no Saxon and nothing happened at the dinner, I just wish to make sure of that fact so as not to allow any danger to the fort and its inhabitants."

"Don't worry Arthur; the girl is definitely not Saxon. I have observed her since her arrival and she has never contacted anyone, though she enjoys riding out, she merely rides in a circuit without stopping and comes straight back to the fort," he did not mention that a few times she had managed to escape him and ride off, but he was sure that she was not in league with anyone who was harmful to them or the fort, "and here she has always been in the company of Vanora or Bors, the Numbers, Dagonet and her family; never socialising with anyone else." The King looked at Tristan for a moment, it had been a while since he had spoken at such a length on a subject, but Arthur kept these thoughts to himself to think over later.

"Well, it shall be good to have her in the tavern kitchen. From what I heard, Barric was not the greatest cook." Tristan snorted at Arthur's words.

"You and Guinevere are lucky to personally have Oswalda. Many have spent an unpleasant morning as a result of one of Barric's meals the previous night." The scout's mouth smiled slightly at the sympathetic laugh that came from Arthur.

"That I would not envy, though I would be intrigued to try some now with the new cook."

"She managed to make the entire tavern silent last night," Tristan concurred. Arthur's eyebrows rose at his statement. To quieten the whole tavern had only been achieved a few times and were usually the results of a fight or shouting argument, both normally involving Bors and Vanora in some way, but never through just the mere act of eating the tavern's food.

"Then I will trust your words my friend. If she is trustworthy as you believe, then I hope to one day meet the young woman who tamed the tavern and possible try her food for myself, that is if Oswalda will allow me too," Arthur smiled thinking of the old cook who ruled the main kitchens of his court and watched as the laughing young woman was finally released from her central position of the mass of children's bodies who had held on after Vanora and Bors had stepped away. Out the corner of his eye, Arthur was unsure whether or not he saw a slight softening of Tristan's hard features, which he had come to read to some extent over their fifteen years together as they watched the woman laughing with the children. But before he could be certain, the scout's mask of indifference was in place and he put the thought away with his previous one to reflect upon later. A silent nod exchanged between them, each man went their separate ways, Arthur to the stables to speak with Jols and Tristan, as he had previously planned, to his chambers and his neglected daggers.

* * *

Once the children had climbed off her and she was able to breathe again, Willow couldn't help a gaze back out the gate at the now empty road that stretched across the green expanse of the fields and over the hill to the South. But with a loud sigh, she reminded herself of the friends and new opportunities she had there and smiled at the children who had helped shift her sadness at the family leaving; the group hug had helped. And the out stretched arms of Ten indicated the boy's want to take his sister Nine's usual place in Willow's arms. The cheeky three year old was the splitting image of his older brothers Three and Four, or Gilly as most knew him but his preference was usually for his number so he fitted in with his brothers and sisters, all three boys had dark hair and Bor's light brown eyes. Resting him on her hip, Willow saw that Vanora had Nine and Eleven on each of her hips while Bors had both the twins Five and Six under each arm and the older One, Two, Three and Gilly along with the younger Eight, Seven, with the constant addition of Lucan, all followed behind as the large gang made their way to the tavern where Vanora was working at for the day. Having the children at the tavern had always been a sticking point between Terryn and Vanora, Willow had found out, but due to the children's father, they were grudgingly allowed free rein over the building so long as Vanora kept them away from the grumpy owner. Luckily, none had ever shown much interest in the kitchen, though Barric had had to shoo them away whenever they got hungry and tended to just take whatever food was lying around. This had resulted in enough upset stomachs that the children had kept away since. Though Willow had overheard the older children reassuring the younger ones that it would now be safe with Willow working there, she was not looking forward to that confrontation. As they walked through the tavern doorway and into the large main room Willow broached on the subject of her accommodation with Vanora.

"Urmm... Vanora, what is happening about my stuff and whereabouts I'm staying?"

She had hoped that there would be a small place which she could rent with her wages from Terryn and would not have to stay with Vanora and Bors. Though she loved them dearly, the noise they made was even too much for her and even she relished silence ever now and again.

"Ah, Terryn's got that covered," The barmaid said flippantly over her shoulder as she bent down to release Nine and Eleven onto the ground so they could go play with their older brothers and sisters.

Willow couldn't hide the apprehension in her voice, "Terryn? ... Really?"

"Yeah, yeah, its fine. All the rooms in the tavern are booked at the moment but he knows someone who can put you up. He's at the bar, go and tell him you've got your stuff and are ready." And she simply turned Willow's shoulders around and pushed her in the direction of the grouchy man. Taking a deep breath as she went, Willow forced her face into a polite smile from the slightly panicky look it had since Vanora's disclosure of the details of her new lodgings. She reminded herself that this man obviously was not that bad as he had offered her a job and was now setting her up with a place to live, so she should be thankful and courteous to him for his help, however hard that would be.

"Hello Terryn, urmm... Vanora told me that you have somewhere for me to stay while... I'm... here..." she began but the sentence slowly died on her lips as he turned his uninterested and miserable look onto her. They stood in silence for a moment before Terryn decided to finally answer her.

"Yeah, yeah, I have a friend who has a spare room that you can rent; I guess I can take you there now, you're not working until later. Where are your things?" He asked in a bored yet exasperated tone as if she should have been ready to leave before she had even approached him.

"They're just in the kitchen, I'll go get them now," Willow said and hastily turned and collected her large backpack from the kitchen and the extra bags of things she had obtained from the family during her time with them. Returning to the main room, she saw Terryn had moved off his stool and was now leaning against to bar, waiting for her in a mood of impatience. Upon seeing her, he just grunted and signalled with his head for her to follow him. In his customary manner, he ignored her momentary struggle to sort out her hold on the bags and walked out the tavern at a pace that Willow would have thought impossible for him. She quickly sorted the bags and strode out the building after him, crossing the small square and the front of the Knight's and Arthur's barracks. Continuing round, they pasted into a side street and walked into the closely knit houses that seemed to cram in to whatever space was available between the stone of the fort's walls and the stone of Arthur's building.

Most appeared to be small thatched houses that accommodated families and a few businesses, Willow thought she spotted a seamstresses and cobblers which she noted for future reference. The street itself was small in comparison to the wide streets around the market and stables but it was large enough to allow the traffic of people and the occasional horse through. It was when she spotted the far west wall of the fort that Terryn finally came to a stop. Looking around Willow took in the appearance of the houses around her. To her left, from where they had come, the state was on the humble side but reasonable and neat. But a look behind her at the houses behind the Knight's building left much to be desired. It was obviously the poorest corner of the fort, a fact which the buildings blatantly showed. A muddy and pot holed street paved the way for dark and decrepit houses that had seen better days.

Focusing back on Terryn, she saw that he had moved to knock on the door of a nicer looking house than the ones around her. It was thatched, like all the other non-roman buildings in the fort, but was bigger than a few that she had seen on her walk there. What made the house stand out, which she had not noticed until then, was that the front was the beige colour of plaster that made up the walls in between the large wooden beams that were the structure, creating a pretty effect. Many of the other houses were built purely of wood but this house obviously belonged to a wealthier individual Willow gathered. An added sign of the owner's relative wealth was the large barn which stood in between the house and the stone of the West wall, though from what she could see from outside, the place was empty.

"This is the one," Terryn said to Willow as if she was too simple to realise that they had stopped there and he had already knocked on the door.

"I can see that," She answered back testily but then reminded herself of Terryn's help and asked in more relaxed tone, "who is it who lives here?"

"I do," came a gruff voice from the darkness behind the door which had opened as she had asked her question, "what do you want Terryn?" it continued. Willow couldn't hide the smirk that came from the irritated tone of voice that addressed the tavern owner.

"Willow, this is Roland, Roland, this is Willow, your new tenant," He stated in a more respectful manner when he had ever addressed Willow.

"She's named after a tree," the disembodied voice affirmed from the doorway to Terryn.

"Aye, she's the tavern's new cook. Finally got rid of Barric," Terryn stated proudly to the dark entrance of the house. Willow raised her chin slightly; she didn't think it was right that Terryn was taking the credit for Vanora's work.

"Bullshit, you probably got Vanora to do it for you, coward," Roland's voice growled at the smug look on Terryn's face. Willow smirked again at the voice's gall for speaking to Terryn in such a way.

'_So much for him being a friend of Terryn's,'_ Willow thought. She could see herself getting on with whoever the voice belonged to if that was how they spoke to people like the tavern owner.

"Humph, well I was planning on getting rid of him; Vanora just beat me to it," Terryn now sulked, "anyway, you asked for a lodger, here's one." And with that he turned around and walked off.

'_Probably back to his bar stool'_, Willow thought as she watched him leave.

"Lazy shit, off to go and vegetate on his bloody bar stool for the rest of the day," the gravelly voice of Roland said from his place inside the door.

"My thoughts exactly," Willow muttered turning from Terryn's departing form and strode forward with her bags and stretched out her hand to her new landlord, "hello, it's nice to meet you Roland, I'm Willow, yes, just like the tree."

She was answered by a grunt and a large hand engulfing her own in a firm handshake. The hand over hers felt calloused but warm and was covered in numerous ink stains. She grasped it back, remembering her grandfather's advice on the good first impression a firm handshake gave.

"Well, hurry up and move yourself inside, you're letting the heat out by standing there," his voice rumbled at her. Willow moved inside and looked around the house that was to be her new home and the man she would be sharing it with.

* * *

**A/N: **_Hello! Sorry its been so long since I've updated. I've had an essay to write on sixteenth__ century English painting (which I actually haven't finished yet) so I've been stressing with that. __I hope you liked the chapter and don't mind bidding a fond farewell to the family, but they will be back – I love them too much to leave them out of the rest of the story._

_Thank you all so much for the reviews, story alerts and adding the story to favourites. You are all awesome and I love reading what you think about the story._

_Music is the amazing Eva Cassidy – 'Fields of Gold', (though I had to skip out a verse of the song as it made it a bit confusing). __Unfortunately, the updates might be longer now as I've caught up with what I've already written and I have soooooo much Uni work between now and May but I'll try and keep it going._

_Hope you liked the chapter, don't forget to review!_

_Thanks  
_

_Pitta x _


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine_

* * *

Taking in Roland's appearance, Willow found it hard not to compare him to the old Irish wolfhound that had belonged to her riding instructor when she was a kid. His was tall and probably in his late fifties she reckoned, though looked older due to the conditions of the time period. He had dark, almost black, hair that was peppered with white and grey with a similarly coloured short beard. Roland's light brown eyes stared back at her as they both seemed to size the other up, though his seemed softer than she had expected, especially after the way he had spoken to Terryn. Willow was sure that the likeness with the old dog went further than just looks. Archie had been remarkably gentle with all the children and around the horses but have proven his salt enough times with rude parents and one occasion with a burglar her instructor had told her grandfather about.

'_Gruff and mean looking on the outside but a big softy on the inside,'_ Willow thought with a hint of smile on her lips.

"Does that belong to you?" His husky voice asked and indicated outside the door. Willow dropped the smile and turned around puzzled as she had brought everything she had inside with her. Sitting obediently outside the house, thumping his tail on the ground as his tongue lolled out of his mouth, sat Duke. Facing Roland again, she managed an awkward nod and apprehensive smile.

"Afraid so, he ran off this morning and I didn't know if he would return again. Urmm, can he come in as well?"

Roland looked between the dog and Willow for a moment, "What's his name?"

"Duke," She smiled at the young dog.

He let out a loud sigh, "Bring him on in, looks a little like my Baxter", Roland's mouth smiled slightly at the dog as Willow signalled for him to follow her inside but quickly dropped the warm expression, "Now close the door, I'm going to have to start another fire at the rate you're letting the air out."

"Who was Baxter?" Willow asked as she petted the dog's soft head and gave a good scratch behind his ear. Roland watched her actions for a moment before reluctantly replying.

"My old hunting dog; was a good old dog. I swear Elga doted on him more than me. She loved that dog, made him an awful hunter but he was a good friend to her. He followed her everywhere and never listened to me," he chuckled. The sound was nice Willow thought but noticed his eyes were somewhere else, remembering forgotten memories. Duke, as if sensing the man's reminiscence, wandered over and snuffled his snout into Roland's hand, demanding attention from him.

"Elga was your wife?" She asked hesitantly. Roland's eyes ceased their far off look and stopped stroking the dogs head and focused back on her, a sombre expression taking over his features.

He nodded, "Aye, she passed away seven winters ago." He dropped his hand from Duke's head and picked up one of her bags and began to walk across the main room, ending the conversation. Willow trailed behind him quietly and looked around the large room as they went. It was warm and homely; rugs covered the wooden floor in earthy tones which matched the a few wall hangings. An assortment of wooden furniture was placed around the room which looked sturdy and comfortable. The living room which she had walked into was reasonable large and had a sizeable fireplace against the left side wall with, similar to the tavern kitchen, a large funnel over it to direct the smoke up the chimney. A large sheep skin rug was placed in front of it and large armchairs, also covered in furs, were facing the fire. Behind them, on the right hand side of the room was a large table with a number of chairs around it, obviously for formal occasions. Looking up, she noticed a floor above the rest of the house, but the living room was opened up to show the thick beams of roof. A steep staircase against the right side of the living room's back wall indicated the means of climbing up to the other level. But something which had her giving it a second look was a bookshelf that was next to the ladder against the wall. It was rare to come across books and scrolls as they were considered extremely valuable and expensive to those who used them, although to most of the ordinary and illiterate population they were pointless. Taking a closer look, many were scrolls of a number of subjects; maths, astronomy and some in Latin which she did not recognise.

"What do you do that means you have so many scrolls?" She asked as she watched Roland sling one of her bag over his shoulder and began to climb up the sturdy looking stairs. Looking back over his shoulder and down at her, he answered in a proud voice.

"I was the tutor to the Roman children of many of the great estates that existed here before so many of them left. Some of my patrons were family to high up men in the Roman government and so I was given many scrolls to teach their children with and some even let me keep them afterwards. Some of my pupils even went on to join their families in Roman and became very successful men. "

"Impressive," Willow muttered as she took a closer look at one of the astronomy scrolls, "do you have any more?" she asked, rolling it back up and placing it back on the shelf.

"Aye, there are some more in my study at the end of the corridor and a number of my favourites in the bedroom. Can you a read them?" He asked as he reached the top of the stairs and indicated for Willow to pass up the second of her bags. He was much more gracious and helpful than Terryn had been with her bags.

"I have some education but not in Latin," she skirted around the issue, not knowing if it was an area that she should discuss as she was sure if was different from what Roland would have taught his pupils. She had stayed in school until the end of sixth form and so had four A-levels but going on to do culinary studies as a degree had meant that such things as maths and science did not come up often so she was probably very rusty at them.

Roland nodded and seemed to lose interest as he then helped her up the top of the stairs onto a platform over the rest of the house. The platform was a medium sized room with a bed, a chest at its feet, a small table and chair and another chair placed in far corner. The side of the room that overlooked the rest of the living was cordoned off with a wooden railing to prevent possibly falling. Assorted items had been placed on the table which Willow was thankful for; an oil lamp, some candles and a bowl and jug of water. It was rustic but nice. Roland turned and opened the window that was next to the bed and looked around the space.

"I'll get you a rug for the floor," He said as he began to walk back down the stairs but had to stop as Duke scampered up them, having taken his own tour of the house himself. His claws made a loud scratching sound on the wood.

"That's going to get annoying," Roland grumbled as he walked away to find the spare sheep skin rug. The window was of a good size and west facing which would get the sunset in the evenings Willow thought as she made her way over to it. It had a wooden shutter on either side that would act as curtains and keep the warmth in at night. Looking out of the window, she saw that the roof of the barn was almost level and could easily be accessed by a short jump from the window. A yawn from the bed made her turn around to see a very content Duke was lying on her bed, stretched out and covering most of it having made himself very much at home.

"Making yourself at home then?" she giggled at the dog's actions and moved over to the chest in order to unpack her belongings. Humming to herself as she first unpacked the bag of items which were relevant to the time as she heard Roland coming back with the rug. He placed it onto the floor beside the bed and let a small smile cross his face as he saw Duke on the bed.

"Rent is five Argentus ever month and help around the house whenever needed," he told her as he straightened the rug so it had no buckles and lay flat. Willow agreed, the price was really good in comparison to her earnings from the tavern and she had always been one to pitch in with Rhiannon whenever cleaning of the wagon was needed. Taking one last look and shaking his head at the dog, he turned around and made his way back to his study where he had been before Terryn had brought Willow. Thinking about her new landlord, Willow couldn't help singing softly to herself as she unpacked.

"Poor old Granddad, I laughed at all his words  
I thought he was a bitter man,  
He spoke of women's ways,  
They'll trap you when they use you, before you even now,  
For love is blind and you're far to kind,  
Don't ever let it show.

I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger,  
I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was stronger."

Focusing on her belongings, Willow took stock of her things as she tried to arrange them in the large chest. Of her Dark Age attire, she had; three everyday dresses in forest green, a creamy brown and the light blue she was wearing at the moment, all in a long sleeved style with leather lacing down the sides to make it fit her. Though they were everyday work dresses they were still nice dresses, all made from flax linen with a high neckline that was slashed in the middle to create a collar and the option of detachable sleeves that were held in place by the same lacing as the body. It had made cooking and playing much easier for her, with no sleeves to get in the way. Her more formal gown that she had bought when in Lindum was for special occasions or performances they had done. It was a beautiful two layered dress of red and cream, the top red layer of a tunic style but that flowed into a long shirt, while the under shirt of cream was long sleeved and all the edges were decorated in a black embroidery. It had been worth the six Argentus she has saved up for it and fitted her very well. It included a delicate metal belt, made up of connecting circles that rested around her hips. Her two cloaks had been a gift from Rhiannon and Aiden, one in a burgundy red and the other in deep navy which also had a large hood that covered her head completely. Her items consisted of a robust metal brooch that fastened her cloaks and her two pairs of boots, one pair were ankle high, the other, her knee high riding boots.

Moving on to her twenty-first century possessions, she placed those at the bottom of the chest, placing her Dark Age things on any space on the bed which Duke had not taken up. She ran over her collections of effects, most of which, after a year and a half, were starting to run out even after her careful rationing. Going through the small amount of food left she noted that she still had such as; some tins and packets of assorted dried food, soups and beans, some tea bags and a malt loaf cake which she had amazingly not opened. Finally she came across her coffee, it was something she had had to slowly ration but she still only had less than half left but she had noticed an Arabian trader at the market recently so would see if he could possibly have anything resembling the drink. The non food items she had had proven to be of better use than the food; her book of songs, her tin whistle, a large towel, a large box of matches, some metal cooking utensils, a sewing kit and first aid kit. Other things had proven useless; like the small torch, ipod and camera that now didn't worked, their batteries having run out long ago but she had found she couldn't bring herself to discard them. They were part the small piece of the future she had left. Though one piece of electronic technology which still worked for her was the watch she had been given as a present from an old boyfriend at the beginning of university. He had been a bit of a nerd and had given her a kinetic energy watch that ran off her body's movements and still kept perfect time, even after being transported back a thousand years into the past.

Willow had had a stroke of luck with her cosmetics as Becky had stupidly put her own bath bag in her pack; an action which normally would have deeply annoyed her but now thanked Becky greatly for her idiocy. It meant that Willow had double amounts of very important things; two tubes of toothpaste, two toothbrushes and bottles of shampoo and conditioner, soaps, deodorant and perfume, tweezers and sun lotion. Willow's issue of sanitary products had been indebted also to Becky. With double amounts of everything, she had been fine in that department for a while and did not want to think about when her supply ran out and would solve it when the problem arose, but until then she was happy to carry on in bliss. Additionally items that Willow had not packed herself had proven useful as well. The extensive first aid kit had been a great, Becky having been a little of a hypochondriac.

Her twenty-first century clothes had been simple and sensible for the camping trip and proven their worth. The three plain cotton t-shirts were light purple, black and blue and were great underneath her clothes, adding an extra layer when the weather had been cold. Her two pairs of trousers, a pair of jeans and black linen trousers, she wore underneath her dresses when out riding to protect her legs getting sore. Two thick and dark hoodies and a waterproof coat were too obvious so had been effective at night for extra warmth. Her underwear situation was a constant chore but one she would never consider forgetting. She had four pairs of boy-shorts and plain t-shirt bras, four pairs of socks, a plain black bikini that she was sure was Becky's as well and one matching racy pair of bra and panties of red and black. They had been in case anything had happened with Dylan but were now used the same as the others. Upon finding out that women did not wear underwear, she had religiously made sure to have a rota of cleaning them after use so that she was never without. The boots she had placed between the trunk and the wall, she added her hiking boots and trainers.

Willow let out a sigh as she finished placing everything into the now very full chest. Duke was snoring softly on the bed, one of his paws pulled over his face. Deciding to explore the house, she made her way down the steps down the short dark corridor and noticed the open door of the kitchen and two other closed doors further down. Poking her head into the kitchen, Willow had a quick look around. It was small but had what was needed for small number of people. A wooden sink was against the far wall and placed underneath the small window which lit the room during the day time. A small table and four chairs were pushed into the right side of the room and a bowl of old looking fruit was placed in the middle. To the left, a short but wide cupboard was what consisted of a pantry and above this were selves that held the cooking utensils, plates and mugs. It was a practical and neat kitchen, very different from the one in the tavern, but Willow still liked it.

Knowing that the other two doors would lead to Roland's study and bedroom, she was respectful and stayed in the kitchen and inspected the cupboard for any food, realising that it was approaching noon. As a sign of her helpfulness as a lodger, she began to make a small plate of lunch for Roland before she left for the work. When she finally had the food prepared; simple, but tasty scrambled eggs on bread with herbs to add more flavour, she walked down the corridor and, taking a guess on the door on her left, knocked and waited for a reply. Luck was with her as it was opened by a grumpy Roland. She smiled at him and held out the plate of food, his eyes widened at the sight and he quickly opened the door further to let her in. Walking into the room, she was amazed at the walls of the room. On either side of her, large shelves lined the walls and were crammed full of scrolls and odd pieces of paper. Against the wall opposite the door, a huge wooden table took up most of the space which she reckoned was Roland's desk. It too, was covered in scrolls, paper and a number of oil lamps that would light to room at night. A large window was over the desk and she could see that it looked over a small garden. It appeared to have a large section of it dedicated to vegetables but she also saw at the back a small out-house with a well next to it, Willow made a mental note to ask Roland about it later. Focusing back on the study, she placed the plate on his desk after Roland had pushed and moved the vast number of papers out of the way and had quickly sat down, never taking his eyes of the food.

"I hope you like it; I'm off to the tavern for the rest of the day," she told him as she handed over the cutlery. Roland merely nodded and grunted a goodbye before taking a large bit of the food. A small whimper bubbled up from his throat as she turned to walk back out the room. Before she left, he called out after her.

"I take see why Terryn employed you. If you can cook this well then your worth all the money he has."

"You're welcome," she called back as she made her way to the front door. The noise of scratching on wood caused her to turn round. Duke, who she had thought would have stayed sleeping for the rest of the day, bounded over to her and waited patiently for her to open the front door. He then proceeded to accompany her, like a furry bodyguard, past the houses towards the square to the tavern, his previously scared demeanour of the previous night changed to a protective and confident one.

"You can sense him watching too huh?" she said to her new sidekick as they made their way across the square and towards the kitchen entrance of the tavern. The feel of the scout's eyes followed them all the way there. Once at the kitchen door all thoughts on Tristan vanished, it took a long time for Willow to make Duke understand that he was not allowed in through the door. After ten minutes of tries, he finally settled down and lay across the doorway, his head on his paws so that he was able to kept an eye on Willow as she moved around the room and any who would possibly try and enter from outside. Satisfied that the dog was finally staying put, Willow began to sort out the food for the lunchtime and evening meals. For lunch she quickly sorted out the ingredients for a meaty broth in the large cauldron, using some pieces of chicken that were still good for cooking in one of the places on the stove and added the other ingredients quickly to the pot. After a while, the broth was done and Vanora came to collect an order, informing Willow that the tavern was even busier than it had been yesterday.

"Seems as if word's gotten round about your cooking," she chuckled as she helped Willow load up a tray with numerous full bowls and spoons. Before Willow could reply, Elena, Rosye and Alvina joined the two of them and began to help with sorting out the bowls and cutlery on to other trays. Instantly, Duke was inside the kitchen and sniffing at each of the women, as if making sure they were all safe to be close to Willow. She eventually managed to shoo him back outside. The barmaids seemed unbothered by the dog's short interruption and continued in their conversation. At that moment, it was focused on the time that Alvina had had with Lancelot last night and both of the other girls seemed to be comparing their own experiences with the knight with her. From what Willow gathered, he was amazing in bed but did not have the best next morning manners and had hurriedly left Alvina to sort herself out and had disappeared, shortly after waking. Vanora just rolled her eyes at Willow, indicating her feelings silently about the girl's late night activities, and Willow couldn't help but agree. She couldn't understand why the barmaids and women around the fort fawned over Lancelot the way they did. It was a given that he was very attractive but his roving eye was obvious and noticeable to anyone who took the time to watch the knight during the course of a single evening in the tavern. Willow wasn't a complete romantic, but she liked her men with slightly more commitment than what Lancelot seemed to offer to his conquests, as that's all them seemed to be to him. The other barmaids and Vanora eventually picked up their full trays and continued their conversation down the corridor to the main room of the tavern, leaving Willow in peace as she began on the second meal she had to cook that day and inspected the pantry stores to see what was available.

Coming across three freshly killed rabbits, Willow was glad she had taken the course at university given by Chef Boundbury. He had been an eccentric teacher and said that it was necessary for all his students to understand where the food which they cooked with came from. As a result, Willow had learnt how to skin and prepare pretty much any animal and fish, could milk cows, goats and sheep, make butter, cream and cheese from scratch and use every almost part of an animal, leaving nothing wasted. She had disliked the class and had fainted and thrown up a fair few times during some of the more gruesome moments but it had been compulsory for her course.

'_Maybe Boundbury knew I was going to be sent back in time,'_ she mused, realising that everything he had taught her she could now put into practice, as she began to cut the fur off the rabbits and ready them for the pot, her stomach lurching uneasily at the process. All the while, she continued to serve bowls of broth onto the barmaids' trays as they moved back and forth between the kitchen and main room. After a stretch, Vanora came in and quickly asked her to help in the main room.

"We're off out feet in there and there's no one to clean the mugs. And you know Terryn's no help. Would you mind being behind the bar for a bit until serving has finished for lunch?"

Seeing the redhead was struggling to load up her tray again as she asked the favour, Willow reluctantly agreed disliking having to work in the main room. Nonetheless, she checked that she didn't need to do anything else to the rabbits, making sure the meat was covered and then followed her down to the rest of the tavern. She quickly placed herself behind the bar and began cleaning the large pile of mugs that had accumulated. Fortunately, after a short time, the lunchtime rush slowly died and she was relieved of her work at the bar and walked back to the kitchen.

A surprise greeted her there. As she rounded the kitchen doorway, a child's dark head was in the pantry. She moved over as quietly as possible, annoyed that one of the Numbers had helped themselves even after the stern talk Vanora told her she had given them about entering the kitchen. From the height of the boy and cut of the hair, she was sure that Gilly had obviously disobeyed his mother and was still hungry. He was so engrossed in whatever he was eating that he did not hear or notice Willow was she came up next to him. With a quick jab, she caught hold of his ear tightly, the way she had seen Vanora do before to her children, and the piece of bread he had been eating with her other hand. But the head that followed her hand, as she brought him away from the pantry, did not belong to Gilly. The boy who was standing front of her and whimpering at the tight grip she had on his ear, though having similarly dark hair to the Numbers, was actually a little lighter but covered completely in dirt. Suddenly, the boys eyes snapped opened and focused an angry glare on her. Willow was taken aback by the ferocity of the glare from such a young boy and could only pause, not knowing what to say to him and after a while only managed to simple state,

"Ah, you're not Gilly..."

* * *

**A/N:** _Please don't hate me! I know its been ages since I last updated and I'm sorry – life just got in the way of writing and updating._

_I hope the chapter was worth the wait and you enjoyed the progression of the story :)_

_Song : The Faces – 'Oh La La'_

_Thank you soo much for the reviews and I'm s__orry about the long wait._

_Pitta x_


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur or the songs used except the original characters_

* * *

The boy's stare did not waver. He stood in silence, his eyes intensely contemplating Willow as she held him at arm's length, with her grip still firm and painful on his ear. Realising that what she had already said was particularly dimwitted of her, she tried a more constructive question.

"Why are you stealing food from the kitchen?" She said, attempting a tone of authority.

He remained tight lipped to her question so Willow took the opportunity to study him. He was skinny, too skinny to be healthy. His bright blue eyes clearly contrasted with the dirt and mud that smeared his face and any other surface of his skin that was not covered by his clothes. Though his clothes were hardly worthy to be called that as they were barely no more than rags that hung off his skinny frame. His hair was the colour of dirt and was caked into tufts, giving him the appearance of a rather pathetic hedgehog. Willow wondered when the last time the boy had washed as she looked over his entire appearance. Placing her other hand on her hip, that held the remains of the loaf of bread, she saw the boy's eyes flicker from her face to the food in her hand.

"You're really hungry, aren't you?" she asked, her voice reverting to a softer tone, betraying her sympathy for the starving child. Sighing she offered him the bread back but kept her grip on his ear. The speed at which the boy snatched the bread and then proceeded to devour it made her resolve dwindle even further.

"You know if you're that hungry I can let you have a bowl of chicken broth with some more bread if you'd like?" She asked him, hoping to get a response from him this time. His focus switched back to her from the bread and his eyes scanned her again, as if judging whether she was telling the truth or not.

"I'll let go of your ear, so long as you don't run off," she added quickly. He gently nodded his head, so as not to jostle his trapped ear. She slowly let go of his ear and waited hesitantly to see if he would make a run for it. The boy remained standing in place and merely reached his spare hand up and rubbed his bruised ear before finally speaking.

"Where's this food then?" His voice was young but challenging as he looked Willow straight in the eye. She nodded to him and pulled up two stools next to the centre table. After indicating that he should take one, Willow turned to the stove and grabbed some bowls and ladled two portions, realising she had not eaten lunch herself as her stomach rumbled loudly. She turned back to the table and placed both down. A small dirty arm immediately shot out and seized one of the bowls and proceeded to tip it's contents straight down his throat.

"You'll make yourself sick if you eat it that fast," she said casually over her shoulder as she went to fetch two thick slices of bread to accompany the soup, "and ever heard of table manners?" she added jokingly. Walking over and taking the seat next to the boy, she saw that he had stopped and rethought his actions and proceeded to using the wooden spoon to scoop up the soup. The rapid pace continued however. They ate in silence, the boy focused entirely on the food and Willow watching him and thinking of how she could get him to talk more. Eventually, the boy finished his large portion of soup and turned his attention back Willow but still remained silent.

"You still hungry? You can have another portion if you want." She was pleased with the curt nod and additional small smile that he gave her as he handed back his bowl. The second time with his bowl the boy ate at a more natural rate which offered an opportunity for Willow to try and get him to talk.

"My name's Willow"She offered a hand to the silent boy as an introduction. The boy eyed her again for a while and looked at the out stretched peace offering. Finally, he put the spoon down and, after wiping his dirty hand on his tunic as an attempt to clean it, hesitantly took hold of Willow's hand and gave it a quick shake.

"Brinley," he answered briskly before taking up the spoon again and finishing the broth.

"How old are you Brinley?" she asked next.

"Ten summers," He said proudly, his chest puffed up with pride.

"Mind me asking why you're in the kitchen?" Willow tried gently after he had satisfyingly swiped his arm across his mouth and sighed with contentment from the food now in his belly. He merely shrugged at her next question.

"I was hungry," was all that he replied.

Willow frowned at his answer, "don't your parent's give you enough food?"

The sadden look on Brinley's face struck a chord in Willow as she mentioned his parents; she had seen the look many times before on many of the newly arrived children that had been dumped at the home.

"Don't have any parents, been on my own since they died three winters ago."

_He was the same age I was when mum and dad died, _she thought, _but at least I had granddad to take me in._

"Didn't anyone look after you afterwards? How have you survived on your own?" Willow was reluctantly impressed that he had managed at such a young age. His chest puffed up again as he told her of his survival.

"I didn't need any help. I'm really good at stealing food and things that I need. The market is good for that. The stupid stall owners always get distracted whenever a customer ever gets interested in their stuff. And the fort is great, there's always a place to sleep. It's covered in empty barns and stables so I can normally find a spot to stay in at night."

"How come you came in here then if you managed so well with the market?" she asked. Brinley sifted uneasily in his seat, his left hand unconsciously wrapped around his body and Willow saw the wince of pain he gave due to his movements.

"I got caught a few days ago by one of the merchants trying to steal some food and he kicked me really hard before I could run off and I haven't been able to steal anything since. And then I saw the door open here and all the food so I took my chance."

Willow frowned as she thought about Brinley's answer. Turning around in her seat, she looked over and saw Duke happily dozing in the sunshine just outside the doorway.

"Well a great guard dog you turned out to be!" she called over to the dog. Duke lazily opened one eye at her for a brief moment before closing it and going back to his nap.

"He did the same to me when I sneaked past him," Brinley smiled as he watched Willow huff at the sleeping dog. She returned the boys smile after a while, glad to see the boy light up with the change in his expression.

"You're lucky that I was the one who found you in here, had it been Terryn, you would probably have lost that ear than just have it bruised," she joked, continuing the light mood their conversation had taken. Brinley's smile turned into a proud smirk at her joke.

"Nah, I would have dodged him and gotten away scot free and with a loaf of bread. He's too fat and slow to catch me." Willow laughed at Brinley's apt comment of Terryn and was joined by the boy, whose laugh was something that she thought had probably not been heard much over the past three years. Brinley quickly stopped laughing and hugged his side again and let out a quite groan of pain.

"Let me have a look at your side," Willow asked as she observed the clear pain on his face.

"No, it's just bruised from the merchant's kick, it'll heal soon. Anyway I should be going, thanks for the food," Brinley hurriedly replied, getting down from the stool and started towards the door. Thinking quickly and mentally sending a short apology to Roland for what she was about to do, Willow called out as Brinley reached the door frame.

"Wait! How would you feel about three meals a day and place to stay?"

Brinley stopped and turned back to face Willow, his eyes wide at her offer but then were narrowed into a guarded look as he answered.

"Why would you help me? You've already given me food. Anyway I can look after myself, I don't need anyone's charity," His tone was the same confident defiance he had spoken with earlier and he turned to leave again. Willow felt her heart go out to the young boy who had had to defend and provide for himself at such a young age.

"My parents died when I was only seven as well," She spoke quietly but knew he had heard her as he had stopped again, "They were killed in an accident but I was lucky that my grandfather took me in, but even then, he died when I was thirteen summers and I was sent to a place where orphaned children went and had to rely on others to live." She looked up and saw Brinley had come back to the doorway and was listening to her words carefully. "The help of others, when given honestly, should never be so quickly rejected. It is rare in this time and can mean life or death. Please listen to me Brinley, that the bruise on your side, could be more than that and could be a cracked rib or two and might possibly you kill you if it damages your lung. The offer of shelter and food is there if you are wise enough to take it."

Willow watched as Brinley stood and weighed her story and offer up in his head. His stance showed that his side had been hurting him more than he let on as he rested his weight on his other side. The offer of food and a bed would be extremely tempting to him. She was relieved when he walked back into the kitchen and stood in front of the her and looked directly into her face for a moment as if reading her features. After a moment of his examination he finally silently nodding his agreement.

Willow looked down at the miniature adult and compared him to Rowan. If placed next to each other, Brinley at only a year older than Rowan would have appeared worlds apart from her adopted brother. The harshness of the world had been forced on to Brinley and wrenched him from his childhood, making him hard and more mature for his age. Rowan still retained much of his innocence and remained in the loving embrace of his family that would ensure his happiness for a number of years. Seeing that Brinley would consider himself grown up and capable, Willow was struck by an idea that would help the boy to shape his life for the better. She had realised, after the previous evening and that day's lunchtime, she was almost incapable of cleaning all the bowls, plates and cutlery that were used by the patrons and the number of pots and pans that she then used while also having to keep an eye on the food as it cooked. The help of a bus boy and washer would improve the kitchen's efficiency, though the agreement would need to be run past Terryn first which would be prove an interesting feat.

"If you are to stay and be fed, you will have to help me out here. I'm in need of a helper with the washing up. It will mean working here almost every day but it will be paid work." Brinley considered her words for a moment and nodded again.

"Right, now I just need to clear it with Terryn," Willow muttered to herself under her breath but quickly focused back on Brinley again.

"Well, due to the state of you side at the moment, you can start when it's mended. For tonight, it'll be nice to have some company as I make the dinner. Go wash your hands in the bowl and then take a seat at the table and start chopping up those onions into small chucks, just like this." She gave him a demonstration with one of the many onions that were piled on the table. Brinley watched carefully, before heading over to the bowl and began washing away the layers of dirt that covered his hands.

"Be warned, they will make your eyes water but whatever you do, don't rub them or you'll get the juice in them and then they'll sting like mad," she instructed, handing over the sharp knife to the boy. He nodded and slower began to peel off the skin of the next onion. Willow smiled at the look of concentration on his face at the task he had been given. Seeing that she had little to do until Brinley had finished chopping the onions, Willow mentioned to him that she was going to the main room and left to go and talk to Terryn about the boy's position as her helper.

The grumpy landlord was surprisingly accepting of the idea of Willow having help in the kitchen, though she did have to argue with him about the wage he thought Brinley should get. She couldn't believe that he apparently thought that a single bronze radiate, the lowest that coins went to was suitable. After more arguing she was triumphant in managing him to change his mind when she dismissively remarked that with that amount he would eat whatever he wanted from the kitchen as a radiate wouldn't even buy an apple. That had quickly made Terryn renegotiate to two nummus and three radiate per month.

She returned to the kitchen and was relieved to see that Brinley was on the last onion and had not stolen any food and run away while she had left the room. She told him the amount he would be getting and felt a little proud of herself as she saw the happy smile brightened the boy's face. She went on with sorting out the rest of what was needed for the evening meal, getting out the other assorted ingredients from the pantry and singing softly as she collected the oil, pepper, ginger, cloves, cinnamon, vinegar, wine and some of the leftover chicken broth altogether.

"When you try your best but you don't succeed,  
Went you get what you want, but not what you need,  
When you get so tired, but you can't sleep,  
Stuck in reverse"

Willow sang softly to herself as she assembled the herbs into the large dinner pot on the stove and moved around the kitchen as she sang the song that had come into her head as she thought about Brinley.

"And the tears coming streaming down your face,  
When you lose something you can replace,  
When you love someone but it goes to waste,  
Could it be worse?  
Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones  
And I will try and to fix you."

She hummed the piano chords of the song as she moved over to Brinley and gathered the chopped onions that sat before him.

"And high up above or down below,  
When your too in love to let it go,  
but if you never try, then you'll never know,  
Just what your worth.  
Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you."

She stopped when she happened to glance over her shoulder and see that Brinley was staring at her.

"Are you singing about me?" He asked his voice quiet and childlike for the first time. Willow didn't know how to reply. She had not intentionally sung the song to Brinley, but it had just come into her head as she thought about him. She stuttered her reply for a moment as she stirred the browning onions as a means of diversion from Brinley's gaze.

"Urmm... I...I guess yeah, I mean I have this thing where I sort of sing... a lot," she attempted to explain.

Suddenly, she felt small arms wrap around her waist as she stirred the tendering onions. Looking under her arm, the dirty head of Brinley's was nestled against her side as he hugged her tightly and though his eyes pressed firmly shut she could see the tears forming at the edges. The embrace reminded her so much of the one that Rowan had given her earlier that morning as they had said goodbye to each other. In that instant, Brinley's young age was so evident to Willow that she couldn't stop herself as she leant down and wrapped her arms around his body, careful of his right side, and slowly stroked his hair comfortingly. The kind action seemed to finally break the boy's resolve and the pain of three years loneliness and grief rose up into heart retching sobs that shook his entire body. Quickly straightening back up, Willow speedily placed the pot of onions off the heat and gathered Brinley up into her arms, an easy task due to his slightness, and walked over to one of the stools and sat him on her lap and she wrapped her arms back around him, rocking him gently and tried to sooth him with gentle words and soft singing a song that she knew Rowan had liked her to sing when he was upset.

"Baby mine, don't you cry  
Baby mine, dry your eyes  
Rest your head close to my heart,  
Never to part baby of mine.  
Little one, when you play don't you mind what they say  
Let those eyes sparkle and shine,  
Never a tear baby of mine.  
If they knew sweet little you, they'd end up loving you too,  
All those same people scald you, what they'd give just for the right to hold you."

Gradually, Brinley's sobs quietened and he sat and just listened to Willow as she quietly sang the gentle song to him and rocked him back and forth.

"From your head down to your toes,  
You're not much goodness knows,  
But you're so precious to me,  
Sweet as can be baby of mine.  
All of those people who scald you, what they'd give just for the right to hold you.  
From your head down to your toes you're not much goodness knows,  
But you're so precious to me, sweet as can be baby of mine  
Baby of mine."

It felt like they had sat there for hours, but eventually the real world crept back in and their solitude was broken by the sound of bustling skirts making their way down the corridor. Willow looked up just as Vanora reached the kitchen door. She quickly shook her head at the barmaid when she was about to enter the room and signalled to her to stay out of sight for a moment longer.

"Hey Brinley," she quietly spoke to the boy, "why don't you go and get some water from the well? You can wash your face and then bring some back for the kitchen. Would you mind doing that?" She asked as she wiped his cheeks of the tears that still lingered there. The little boy shook his head softly, slid off her lap and without a sound made his way to the well behind the tavern kitchen. Once he was out of the door, Willow called out to Vanora from where she stood. The redhead wore a frown as she walked back into the room.

"Why was there a crying child on your lap?" She asked bluntly.

"I caught him in the pantry stealing food."

"So you comforted him for being caught for the crime," Vanora replied sarcastically, "If I'd have found him, he would have been nursing a sore arse from where I would have kicked him out the door," she added.

"Really?" Willow raised her eyebrows, "He's only ten years old and starving." Vanora considered for a moment before relenting.

"Alright, maybe just a sore ear then."

Willow smiled, "Oh don't worry; he got one of those. I've been around you and the Numbers long enough that I've picked up a few things."

Vanora grinned with pride, "I am quite good at it, aren't I? So why was he crying to you?" She asked, going back to her original question.

"He's going to be staying with me at Roland's and he was just thankful about it," Willow answered, glossing over Brinley's emotion breakdown.

"Oh!" Vanora exclaimed as she remembered her purpose. "That's what I came in here for, to ask you how you got on with meeting Roland. I'm so sorry my love; I had no clue that that was where Terryn was taking you. If I had known I would have let you stayed in one of the kid's rooms until somewhere became free. I mean, I know the kids are a bit loud but honestly anywhere is probably better than staying with Roland. I mean there's a reason why he hasn't found a lodger for so long," Vanora hurriedly said but stopped when she saw Willow's confused face.

"Why would staying with him be that bad? Roland seems nice," Willow shrugged.

"Nice? He seems nice? Willow, the words Roland and nice I don't think have ever been said in the same sentence together. He's a tough bastard who's rude to everyone, has no time for children anymore so I don't know how you're going to break the news to him about that one." She indicated with her head to the way Brinley left. "Particularly as I'm guessing he doesn't know anything about your little addition." Willow bowed her head and mumbled something unintelligible and tried to avoid answering her.

"I'll take that as a no then," Vanora said, placing her hands on her hips. "Well it's your head, and possibly the little one's too. Well when you find yourself homeless, you can come and stay with us. There's more than enough room in the knight's barracks for you. And him if you are set on helping him out." Vanora had quickly taken up residence with Bor's in his room at the barracks after the birth of One. But after the arrival of Three, the two had discussed the issue with Arthur and the other knights and it was agreed that the kids would move into the empty room across the corridor of the recently killed Caradoc. What followed was a sad pattern until all the children had their own rooms in the building which housed the Sarmatian knights. Though initially a regretful decision by the knights, they soon welcomed the noise and life that the children gave to their home, it helped to abide the deaths of their brothers as they fell. Nevertheless, even Bor's and Vanora had not had enough children to fill the many other rooms which now stood empty after fifteen years of fighting at the Wall.

"Roland is not going to throw us out Vanora," Willow assured her friend.

Vanora looked back at her for a moment before narrowing her eyes questioningly. "Has he tasted your cooking yet?" Willow nodded with a slightly smug smile on her lips.

"Ah well, you'll be fine then. Roland may be mean but he's not stupid and he would have to be the village idiot to throw out a cook like you." She nodded in her confidence of her assessment.

"Well now that I have your assurance of my future, Vanora, this is Brinley, the tavern's new washer and bus boy. Brinley, this is Vanora, I would call her the boss but as Terryn technically owns the tavern he is, but she pretty much runs the place." Willow gave introductions as Brinley waddled back through the door carrying a fresh bucket full of water. Willow noticed his eyes were less bloodshot and his face was no longer blotchy after having cried for so long. Brinley wordlessly moved forward, having put down the bucket and held his hand out to Vanora, who gentle gave his small hand a shake in return. The young boy took the stool next to Willow and began picking at a length of rosemary that lay on the table in silence.

"What's a bus boy?" Vanora asked after she studied the child for a moment, not understanding Willow's modern expression. The barmaid repeated the phase several times as if to test how it felt on her tongue as she said it.

"What's a bus?" she then asked.

"Urmm... something that ferry's things from one place to another," Willow said quickly. "It means Brinley will be moving plates, bowls and mugs between the main room and here so they can be washed up so it's less work for us at the end of the night." At the mention of that, Vanora beamed at Brinley, she was glad to have any help that lessened the work she always ended up doing and successfully distracted her from Willow's strange vocabulary.

"Well in that case, it's good to meet you Brinley. Terryn does know about him at least? You haven't just given him a job without clearing it?" She asked sarcastically at Willow, who huffed at the cynical comment.

"Yes, he knows about Brinley working and Roland will be fine with the arrangement!" Willow stuck her tongue out at Vanora, but that only caused the woman to laugh at the childish behaviour.

"Anyway, don't you have drunken people to serve while I have dinner to cook?" Willow continued, wanting to get back to finishing off the preparations for the dinner that she had halted in order to comfort Brinley. Vanora chuckled and held up her hands in mock defeat.

"Fine, I'm going! I just wanted to make it clear that I didn't send you to your doom with Roland, that's all." Vanora claimed as she walked back to the tavern and her work. Willow sighed in relief as she left and went back to concentrating on the food as she placed it back onto the stove. She looked over her shoulder at Brinley, who had managed to completely shred the herbs into a tiny pile in silent concentration, and hoped to God that Roland would be alright with his additional house guest.

* * *

"Yeah, just gave him a job here, only just seemed to have cleared it with Terryn as well, I hope she knows what she's doing. I mean I would never have trusted the lad had I caught him stealing," Vanora chatted to the other barmaid, whose name Tristan didn't bother to remember. Though he was sure Lancelot knew the girl in his typical way. He kept his head down over his now empty drink as the two came to replenish the knights' drink supply at the table. He knew that they had to be talking about Willow from the maternal tone which Vanora used, even when she was chastising the young woman. Wordlessly he pushed his flagon towards the chatting women as the other barmaid, the one that he just simply labelled as Mini-Vanora due to her similar red coloured hair. The barmaids ignored Tristan as he listened to their conversation.

"Will she be safe around him? He sounds pretty feral from what you've said," Mini-Vanora replied to her double, whose initial answer was simply a raised eyebrow.

"She is older than you Alvina. Willow's a big girl and can take care of herself." At that the two moved on to the next table not realising that their talk had ignited some suspicious thoughts in the silent knight's mind. Who was this man who Willow now had working with her? If he was a thief, how could she allow such a dangerous individual to work at the tavern with her? Tristan stood up and began to make his way towards the kitchen corridor, telling himself that he wanted to mention his objection to the tavern cook about her use of his apples. It just happened to be a coincidence that he would also be able to size up and scrutinize the new employee.

* * *

**A/N: **_It's been another really long wait, I know and I'm seriously sorry! Hopefully I will now be able to continue the story as I got out of sync with this fanfiction and it didn't help that my laptop completely died on me but I've watched the film again and the Tristan love is as strong as ever. All your reviews have been amazing and helpful in getting me back into it. So this was a bit of an emotional chapter but i hope it was alright for you guys and i hope you get to like Brinley and i plan to be writing some more of Tristan in the future as i had forgotten how much fun it was to write from his perspective._

Songs: Coldplay - Fix You

_ Alison Krauss - Baby Mine _

_Cheers for coming back and reading after so long._

_Pitta x_


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but the original characters - themz be mine

* * *

As he stepped into the kitchen, Tristan looked around and took in Willow and a young boy. The boy had his back turned to him as he sat at the central table. He could make out a dark crust of mud stuck to his hair and clothes. Neither had noticed his presence, surprising Tristan. Willow seemed to have an annoying ability never to be surprised whenever he wanted to be surreptitious around her. Tristan stood in the doorway and observed as she stood at the oven and tended to the food cooking within the large black pot that hung over the fire. The room smelled strongly of fresh herbs and cooked meat. It was far more pleasant than the smell of the stale alcohol that permeated the room that he had come from. The knight enjoyed the opportunity to examine her without her knowledge for once. His eyes roamed over Willow's long blonde hair as it fell down her back. It was tied up with a leather thong, he presumed so that it was out the way of the cooking. The added bonus was that it revealed the creamy white skin of her neck.

More strikingly was the bright colouring of the marking that was there which contrasted dramatically with her skin. Staring at the mark, Tristan wondered at its meaning or significance to Willow. His own were usually a note of interest to the inhabitant's, particularly the female half, of the fort in their curiosity towards the foreign knights and their varying customs. Unlike the other knights, Tristan had come from a tribe that was closer associated with those of the Hun warrior tribes of the East, than the Roman controlled land of the West. His tattoos were the identification of his passage into adulthood when he had come of age and his membership of the tribe. It was a practice which many of the other tribes in Sarmatia no longer followed but still remembered and respected.

Studying the beautiful design on Willow's neck, Tristan admired the use of the colours and intricate detail of the petals of the flower. It was a marking that he could not imagine anyone possessing the skill to create such a complex pattern, nor for Willow to have borne the pain of its creation. His tribe being the only one that he knew of that still kept to the ancient tradition, Tristan wondered of the clan to which Willow belonged and what they must look like with similar vibrant markings. Moving his appraisal to Willow's face, the heat of the fire gave the skin on her cheeks a warm blush and made the light glitter in her eyes as she stared into the flames. Her deep concentration was evident as the fire's light intensified the frown that creased her brow. Her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip as another sign of her concentration but gave her a childish appearance which Tristan found himself feeling jealous about for some reason.

After a moment, he shifted his attention to the young mud-covered boy at the table. He judged that the lad was around Gilly's age but was wiry and tougher than Bor's son. His posture was of a child who had suffered and had fought to survive. The same look was one which all the knights had eventually acquired by the time they had arrived at the Wall to begin their duties all those years ago. The boy shifted in his position on the chair and Tristan saw the small flinch at the movement. He was clearly uncomfortable on his left side as his hand reached around to cradle his chest briefly. The knight imagined his expression echoed Willow's frown as he thought of the child's injuries and how it could have been caused. It was common knowledge at the fort that Arthur was a fair leader who greatly cared for those under his rule. It was a rarity to see any child with such injuries that the boy clearly had. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he knew that Willow or Vanora would take care of the child's injury and probably whether he wanted them to or not.

He returned his focus to his original intent. Tristan glanced around the dark kitchen and quickly located the basket of apples; they had been carelessly dumped underneath the table close to the boy's dirty dangling feet. This was not a place which he particularly desired them to be located.

"You know...," Tristan said as he leaned against the door frame and watched as Willow spun around from her contemplation of the fire. Her expression was not one of welcome, though he had not expected it to be. It was probably the same as his had been upon his own realisation that he had succeeded in observing her without her knowledge.

"... Many people consider it rude to use their things without permission," he said. It did not take long for Willow's expression to change from its initial surprise to clear annoyance.

"Back in Sarmatia, I could, by all rights, have your hands for the use of those apples," Tristan added. Her expression of annoyance did not waver.

"How very Old Testament of you," she replied sarcastically. This was not the response that Tristan had been expecting. Usually, a single glare or the mere mention of violence, the inhabitants of the fort would fall over their feet trying to appease him. But, of course, Willow had to be difficult. Tristan had never been one for tactics and strategy; he enjoyed the fight not the planning. That was left to Arthur and Lancelot, the two would spend hours devising plans and inventive ways to defend or attack potential enemies. But with this situation, Tristan realised he was going to have to try and change his tactics to get his way. Taking a deep breath and with his nose tingling with the scent of fresh rosemary from the table, he pushed himself off the door frame and began casually and slowly to move across the room to where Willow was standing, attempting a calm and affable air.

But before he had taken more than three steps into the room Tristan froze as the boy, who had been silently watching the exchange between the two of them, quickly slid from his chair to stand in front of Willow protectively. The move did not even appear to hurt the boy outwardly, though Tristan caught the wince in his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, until Willow broke the silence. The look upon her face told Tristan that she was similarly surprised by the boy's abrupt actions. Laying a gentle hand upon his small shoulder, she leaned down to speak soothingly to him.

"Brinley, Tristan was just joking when he said he would cut off my hands." From her position behind the boy Willow's eyes flicked up to meet Tristan's and gave him an obvious look that communicated that he was to agree with everything she said, without question.

"I don't like him Willow!" the boy whispered angrily back to her. Tristan caught the words and smiled to himself. It was not the first time that he had heard the same phrase from a child at the Wall.

"Don't worry маленький воїн_,_ I will do it with my sharpest blade and make it quick and clean so there is less pain for her," Tristan supplied with a smirk to the boy as Willow glowered at him. He particularly enjoyed the subsequent anger that seemed to radiate from the young boy as his eyes narrowed at the knight. As if sensing the boy's increased emotions, Willow came up from her position beside Brinley and squared her shoulders. It was only a matter of seconds before her arms shot out to grab hold of the boy as he went to lunge at Tristan. Vanora's description of the boy as feral to the other barmaid came back to Tristan as the boy proceeded to growl at him. Willow's knuckles were white as they gripped the boy firmly and yet carefully as she managed to guide him until he was positioned behind her. Tristan knew that what he had just said, though entertaining to him, had not in fact been appreciated by Willow and she was about to make that abundantly clear. Even the boy seemed to quieten down under her hands as he ceased objecting to being the one now protected.

"What the hell is your problem?" She spoke as directly as she had the first time they had spoken outside the stables all those weeks ago. Her voice was quiet but cold. It was something in the way in which she spoke to him that managed simultaneously to amuse and frustrate Tristan.

"We call it a joke where I come from," Tristan replied through gritted teeth. He didn't understand how the situation had ended up in this state. All he had wanted to do was to get her to stop using his apples; instead he wound up in an argument with her and with a young boy trying to attack him.

"It's not a joke when you can see clearly that what you said upset Brinley," she retorted.

"It is not my fault that the маленький воїн has no sense of humour," said Tristan.

"Stop calling him that or whatever it is that you are calling him! His name is Brinley," Willow said angrily. "You just had to provoke him didn't you? Are you so stupid that you couldn't have stopped and agreed with what I said? "

"Do you always speak this disrespectfully to men or do you just enjoy infuriating them?" He asked and took great pleasure in the glare that he received.

"I speak respectfully to those who I believe deserve it."

"Really, квітка_,_ you should be more careful on whom you unleash that tongue of yours upon. Many are not as obliging as I am with such impertinence," Tristan chastised her. He admitted that she had spirit to speak to him in such a way but she had to be careful around others who would not brush off her comments as lightly as he did. But, as he had now come to comprehend, she did not listen. Tristan didn't catch her next insult however as he was looking behind Willow and watching Brinley.

The boy no longer stood behind Willow glaring at him. It appeared he had heard something from outside the kitchen door and had moved towards the threshold without attracting Willow's attention. Tristan watched as Brinley took a moment before catching sight of something outside and bolted through the door and out of sight. With the distraction gone, Tristan did catch the next insult thrown at him.

"... And you're not even bloody listening to me so why would I even think of giving a shit as to what I say to some dirty hobo like you. So why don't you just back off and stop stalk..."

She didn't finish her sentence as the sound of a dog barking and then someone yelling from outside the kitchen door, through which Brinley had just left, caused her stop. Turning towards the door as well, she seemed to forget Tristan's existence completely and moved outside, following Brinley's footsteps.

* * *

Coming out into the bright light of the afternoon from the dark kitchen, Willow took a moment to take in the scene before her. In front of her stood Brinley with Duke and by his side was another dog. The other dog was lying on the ground, curled into a ball and covered in dirt. Flecks of blood dotted its fawn coloured coat. Stood directly across from them was a very angry large man. Willow recognised him as one of the game traders from the market by the russet fur pelt that hung from his rotund middle. His over sized gut was another indication of the wealthier lifestyle of his trade. He was of average height but stocky build, with a balding head covered sparsely by thin grey hair. The man's face was bright red from barely contained anger as he continued his abuse towards Brinley.

"I ought to hack off your hands, you thieving little runt!"

"What is it with you people and wanting to chop off other people's hands?" Willow muttered to herself. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and sealed herself for what she had to do. The previous argument which she had recently been in with Tristan should have informed her decision to argue with the fur trader. However, the spat with Tristan only managed to cloud Willow's sense of caution and forget the warning he had given her.

"Hey! If you're going to pick on someone, pick on someone your own size!" She yelled at the man. '_Did I seriously just use that cliché?' _Willow thought as the man turned his angry gaze on to her.

"Shut your mouth or I'll cut your tongue out after I'm done with his hands, you little bitch!" the man roared back at her.

"Don't you talk to her that way!" Brinley shouted courageously. Willow could see him shaking with fear as the man began to bear down on him.

"I'll talk to the both of you however I please! Now give me back my hunting dogs' thieves!"

"These are your dogs?" Willow asked as she moved herself in front of Brinley for the second time that day.

"Yeah! They are both my legal property and I will have you pay for taking them" he retorted back, moving to grab Duke and the other dog by the scruff of their necks. Before he could make purchase on the dogs' necks, Willow placed both her hands on his out stretched arms and roughly pushed him away from the animals.

It took only a split second for Willow to realise what she had done. The man, caught off balance by her shove, fell backwards onto the floor with a loud huff. Feeling empowered by his new lowered position Willow started, what she would later realise as very foolish, a rant against the market trader.

"I don't care if they are your dogs, the state in which I found that dog," she indicated to the still growling Duke at her side, "by many animal welfare standards, would agree that you are not fit to own any kind of animal if that is the condition in which you keep them. He is still only a defenceless puppy and it was obvious that you had not only starved him but beaten him as well when I found him the other night."

Feeling a little smug for herself in her defence of both Brinley and the dogs, Willow turned slightly to calm Duke down from his growling. In that moment, the trader proved that he was quicker than his appearance made him seem, with his face an even darker shade of red at the embarrassment of Willow's action and words, he sprang to his feet. His eyes narrowed at Willow as she straightened up and faced him again. Before she had time to react, the man's arm came out to strike her across the face and all she had time to do was close her eyes and wait for the blow.

But it never came. Opening her eyes a faction, the sight which met her was one she could never have fathomed. Standing next to her, so close she could smell his musky scent, Tristan was stood, his own arm out stretched and gripping the trader's tightly just inches from Willow's face. Dragging her eyes away from the knight's hold on the trader's arm, Willow took in the look of fear and panic on the man's face. As if he were a deflated balloon, the man visible shrank away from the Sarmatian and immediately began mumbling an apology and tried to back away. Tristan's grip held fast and in a voice that caused a shiver up Willow's spine, he proceeded to give the trader some advice as well.

"I recommend that you never try to harm this woman, boy or these dogs again. They no longer belong to you and I'd advise you to pack up your stall and move on to the next fort. You're not welcome here Ulric." With his parting words no more than a whisper, Tristan used his other hand to take hold of the trader and proceeded to sharply jerk his wrist. The snap of the bone was loud and sickening to hear as was Ulric's shriek. Willow stood shocked as Tristan then pushed the man away, causing him to fall off balance for the second time. Ulric struggled to his feet, bowed in obedience and scurried away cradling his broken wrist, silently crying but thankful that a broken wrist was all he had received from the knight.

"Holy shit! You just broke that guy's wrist!" Willow exclaimed once she had regained her voice from the surprise of Tristan's actions.

"He is lucky that is all he received. There is much worse punishment for the abuse of women and children at this fort. Arthur likes to keep order and sometimes that means violence is used as a deterrent to people like Ulric. Besides, he has endured worse." Tristan shrugged, turning to inspect the dog still curled up on the floor. Taking a moment to rationalise in her head of what he just did, Willow cautious joined Tristan by the dog, mentally adding another dimension to what she already knew of Tristan's complex character.

"Jeez, she's in the same bad state Duke is in." Willow commented once she had a look at the dog, noting it was a bitch. It appeared older than Duke but still under a year old. The dog's body was similarly underweight as Duke's and covered in mud and spots of blood. Willow bent down and stroked the dog's head softly, causing a quiet whine to sound from the injured pup.

"These dogs are similar to those that we Sarmatian's keep as guards for the horses to the different tribes," Tristan said quietly as he crouched beside Willow. He was close enough that she could smell him again. He smelt subtly of wood smoke and hay. She quickly jerked herself away once she realised she had been leaning closer towards him, unconsciously savouring his scent. But Tristan offset the distance she had made between them as he reached out to scratch between Duke's ears. He leaned closer towards her to balance himself as the hound moved in to inspect the knight, "they're called Alaunt and they are a loyal and trustworthy breed," he added.

"Well this dog is sick and needs some food," Willow replied briskly, "Brinley can you help me get her into the kitchen?" she asked, standing up and turning to the young boy.

"I think Duke's made a new friend," Brinley commented. He indicated to the newly acquainted pair. Enjoying the affection, Duke had leant so far into the hand that was scratching his ear that he had managed to push Tristan off balance. Now in a dusty pile on the floor, Willow couldn't help the laugh that seemed to bubble up out of her at the sight of the cool and collected knight being sat on by the young dog. Even Brinley chuckled at the odd sight, causing Duke to thump him tail happily against Tristan. But the small whine that the female dog made refocused Willow on her task. Steadying herself, Willow picked up the dog gently and began to move back towards the kitchen. She called out over her shoulder for Brinley to follow her, worried that he could potentially wind up in some more trouble. But remembering she had been brought up correctly, she called back to Tristan who had managed to get himself out from underneath Duke.

"Thank you for your help Sir Tristan." She said with great strain. '_Keep it short and sweet... still think he's an arrogant idiot... but I'll admit, handy in a sticky situation'_ she thought as she turned back and walked into the warmth of the kitchen to concentrate on helping the injured dog. Although, just at the last moment she thought she was able to hear the knight's quiet reply.

"There's just no way of understanding you, квітка"

* * *

**A/N: **_Hi, so it's been a really long while! I'm sorry to all of those of you who have had to wait so long for this next chapter, it has literally taken me 6 months to write, having had really tough writers block and constantly coming back to it time after time with nothing gets very frustrating. But I'm hoping to get some more chapters out of me as i really want to finish the story which i have enjoyed writing about so much. _

_Thank you again so much for your patience and i hoped you enjoyed the chapter._

_Pitta x_

_Translation (A little explanation - I decided to go with Ukrainian as the Knight's spoken language as it is roughly the area from which they came from and it's easier to find translation for it than Ossetian, apparently the only surviving dialect descended from the Sarmatians, so call me lazy but it's just A LOT easier!)_

маленький воїн – _little warrior_ (pronounced : malenʹkyy̆ voïn)

квітка –_ flower_ (pronounced : kvitka)


	14. Chapter 14

'_Electricity... and waterproof clothing, definitely miss that. Ugh, I hate rainy springs.'_

Willow looked out the kitchen door as heavy raindrops fell down in thick icy sheets.

'_Oh and radio! I seriously miss listening to the radio!' _Her thoughts reeled off more future amenities as she chopped up the herbs for the stew.

'_And I'm sick to death of stew and broth! Give me some pizza or a curry... or chocolate! Anything else besides the same stupid, boring stew!' _

It had been a few weeks since Willow had permanently settled at the fort, and the same daily routine had started to grate. Slowly, certain twentieth-first century conveniences had begun to creep back into her mind. Having travelled extensively across the country with Aidan and Rhiannon, new experiences and places had kept her mind engaged and distracted from reminiscing back to the future.

'_And central heating! And my laptop... ugh! The internet! I miss the internet so much!' _

Spending a prolonged time in the same place, the memories of the ease of cooking and the comfort of her previous life began to play occasionally on Willow's mind. Usually they had only occurred in moments of idleness, but recently her thoughts had strayed back again and again to them. This happened more often than she cared to admit. With her mind still on her lost possessions a millennia in the future, she gathered up the herbs and turned to the large cauldron over the fire. The venison stew had been bubbling for a while and would be served to the masses that now gathered in the tavern. The rowdy noise of the hunger horde could be heard clearly in kitchen.

Whether it was sound of the famished field workers and soldiers in the tavern or her concentration on the future, as Willow moved to scrape the chopping board into the stew, a sharp pain shot up her right arm. The wooden board clattered to the ground, along with the knife.

"Ow! Shit!... Ahh damn it!" Willow screeched, clutching her arm.

"God damn it!" she cursed herself again, examining the already shiny pink skin of her forearm left exposed by her rolled up sleeves. The burn began to sting sharply as she walked over to the stone sink. Thankfully the water within it was clean. Brinley had only recently drawn it from the well. To relieve the pain as quickly possible, Willow bent over the sink and dunked her arm under the blissfully cold water. The relief was heavenly and instant. Turning her arm around under the water, she could see that the burn covered a sizeable part of her forearm.

"Marvellous! Just marvellous!" She huffed as she shifted to a more comfortable position sitting next to the stone tub, "well that's going to leave a delightful scar!"

"Willow, are you all right?" A quiet voiced asked from the doorway. Brinley stood, dirty bowls and plates piled up in his arms.

"I'm fine Brin, I just caught the edge of the stove with my arm but I'll be fine. I'm just cooling it down," She said, smiling to reassure him. Brinley had become very protective of Willow, almost acting like the older sibling than the other way around.

"Willow, I'm going to get Vanora. She deals with the Numbers injuries all the time. She can help you," the boy decided.

"Duke, Lady, you sit with Willow until I come back," he commanded, sternly addressing the two young dogs beside him and dumping the dishes on the counter. The dogs were always beside him. Almost like fellow orphaned children, the dogs never left Brinley or Willow's side if they could help it. As if they had understood Brinley's words, Duke and Lady both gave a happy bark and tail wag in acknowledgement. They went bouncing over to Willow's position on the floor; Duke deciding that the best place to wait was directly on top of Willow. Lady, on the other hand, acted more like her name sake and happily sat leaning comfortable against Willow's back. Duke's legs had gotten longer and ganglier over the weeks. He was beginning to get too big to sit on anyone's lap any more, but that never seemed to deter him. After a lot of shuffling and shifting, the dog sat cheerfully on Willow's legs, his wagging tail bumping into her side.

It was in this position, almost hidden behind the central table and sandwiched between two large dogs, which Vanora came across her.

"What in the Gods names are you doing on the floor?" She asked as she caught sight of the top of Willow's head.

"... I caught my arm on the stupid pot," Willow grumbled.

"Let me have a look at it," Vanora said, the authority ringing clear in her voice of one who scrutinised many wounds of unruly children. She carefully studied the burn, being careful not to touch the sore pink area. Thankfully, Willow's arm had gone numb from the coldness of the water so that the stinging sensation had lessened. After some time, Vanora clicked her tongue having come to a mental conclusion.

"It's not as bad as some that I've seen; it'll still blister and probably be painful for a while. But it'll certainly be best to go see Dagonet for some to help it heal up quicker," she offered and carefully rolled Willow's sleeve back down to safely cover the burn.

"But what about the food? I can't leave! Who will serve it and have it ready for you and the girls to take out?" Willow stalled, not wanting to lay her work on anyone else, especially as a result of her own clumsiness.

"Willow, I have eleven children. You don't think I can feed those oversized children out there?" Vanora answered, indicating to the tavern's main room, "Trust me, if I can handle my kids, I can handle them lot. Now go, before I get Brinley to bring Dagonet here and disrupt him from his own work in the healing rooms."

"Fine! Although I have no idea where the rooms are," Willow spluttered before Vanora could make good on her threat. Nothing would have embarrassed Willow more than having one of the knights disturbed from his work and have any unnecessary attention drawn toward her. If she could go to the healing rooms, be quickly seen so that no fuss would be made about it. Get in and get out; that was the plan Willow decided.

"The rooms in the barracks, just past the main room, take a left when you get the latrines and then a right when you're at the library. If you end up at the armoury, you've gone too far and you'll need to double back on yourself. It's easy to find, you'll never miss it!" Vanora casually reeled off, her focus now fixed on the stew, "Now go! I've got hunger mouths to feed. Brinley, go let the serving girls know that I'm in the kitchen this noon so they'll have to step it up today. I shan't be there to shove them along when they start their flirting, so you'll have to be my eyes and ears out there."

With that Willow found herself quickly pulled up, dogs pushed off and out of the back door of the kitchen. Before she even had a chance to turn around, a cloak was unceremoniously thrown on her head to protect her from the rain and the door closed in her face.

"No chance of you repeating those directions again?" Willow meekly asked the wood of the door, a tad perplexed at her quick dismissal. As a cold drop of rain trickled down the back of her neck, her focus was brought her back to her given task. Huffing loudly as she wrapped the cloak around her; Willow turned and began towards the largest building in within the fort, the Roman compound that served as the King of Britain's stronghold. She started to pick her way down the main road, trying her best to avoid the vast patches of mud and puddles. Drawing past the marketplace on her right, it was completely deserted. Each of the stalls was empty. It made the fort eerily quiet, expect for the sound of the rain that turned the paving stones of the market square as dark as the rain clouds overhead.

'_Wish they would hurry up and pave the roads as well as the market square,'_ she thought as she side stepped a particularly large and muddy puddle. No one else wanted to be out in this weather, she established, as not a single soul crossed her path on her way to the main building.

Standing in front of the gated courtyard, Willow came across her first obstacle: how did you get into the place without drawing attention? The building was as guarded as Fort Knox. Guards stood at every possible entrance and exit to the low standing villa. Each one looked as miserable as Willow felt as they all stood in the pouring rain, but at least she had the option of moving. Judging by the looks on their faces, Willow decided that asking to be let in probably wasn't going to yield any favourable results. So picking her route carefully, to avoid the squelching mud of the rest of the main street, she made her way to the rear of the building. Usually a back door for servants was situated there and would be easier to get in by and no miserable guards would get in the way.

She moved quickly as she hurried to get out of the cold down pour. Coming round a corner, Willow found some luck. Just on the south side, behind a large pillar, she spotted a woman with a wicker basket hitching up the bottom of her dress and swiftly running across the muddy road and into the shelter of a close by house. Without hesitation or thought, and in her progressively wetter cloak and boots, Willow ducked into the doorway the woman had vacated and out of the rain.

The corridor was dark, as the thick clouds outside restricted much light getting in through the all ready small lattice windows. Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, Willow carefully removed her damaged arm and shook out the cloak. A large amount of rain fell to the floor and a puddle formed at her feet. Worried that someone would tell her off for the mess, folding the cloak over her good arm, she quickly moved off down the corridor in the hope of finding one of the rooms that Vanora had mentioned in her rattled off directions.

"Main room, main room..." Willow mumbled to herself as she came to a second corridor, identical to the one she had just come from.

"Where's creepy watcher dude when you need him?" She asked the air, wondering how helpful Tristan would be at directing her at that moment in time. Sticking her head round the corner, there was no indication of any of the rooms that Vanora had mentioned.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps sounded down the end of the second corridor. Willow's heart started rapidly beating in her chest as she leapt against the wall. She pressed her back hard into the stone, willing herself to become invisible as the noise came nearer.

'_What if it's a guard and I'm going to be arrested for trespassing? What if I'm seriously not meant to be here?'_ Many more what if's raced through her mind as she stood frozen on the spot, immobile from fear of punishment for her thoughtless entry into the building.

"Are you okay?" A pleasant voice asked. Snapping her head round, Willow found herself face to face with a young dark haired girl. The girl's expression was alarmed but not hostile as Willow had expected, although confused was a more appropriate word to describe it. Detaching herself from the wall, Willow giggled nervously as she righted herself to face her.

"Vanora sent me here," Willow explained, hoping that reference of one of the knight's partners would cast away any suspicion as to why she might have appeared to be mysteriously lurking in the back corridors of the King's household.

"She told me to go to the healing rooms and see Sir Dagonet. I managed to burn my arm and she shoved me out of the tavern, took over making and serving lunch. So now I'm here. I came in through a doorway out the back. But now I'm lost as I've never been here before, well except once when I performed for the King at a Dinner with my fam..." Willow started to ramble hurriedly.

"Oooooh you're tree girl!" The girl smiled, interrupting Willow's nervous stream of chatter.

"..ily, but that was only in the main dining room. Wait, what? Tree girl?" Willow stopped short, her now being the one confused.

"You're that one that's got the same name as a tree," The girl added, "Willow, isn't it?"

Willow nodded slowly, still confused. She hadn't realised that she was known around the fort by any of its inhabitants except those whom she considered friends, and even they did not number that many.

"No problem. You need to take a left down there," She helpfully turned round and pointed in the right direction, "Take a right when you've passed the kitchens and it'll be down some steps with some large oak doors. You'll know it when you see it," she gestured with her hands helpfully.

"Wow, thanks...?"

"Elaine, my name is Elaine," She offered happily.

"Cool, well thanks again Elaine. Maybe I'll see you around the fort sometime," Willow said as she began to move off down the corridor Elaine had pointed towards.

"It is rather cool today with the rain I suppose," Willow heard the girl say quietly as she waved goodbye and continued on her path through the dark passageways. She had to be more guarded with her speech. Modern slang terms always drew confusion whenever she accidentally used one.

Humming softly to herself, Willow turned left at the end and walked further down a much wider and lighter hallway. The walls were decorated a light dusky red, not the plain grey stone that the previous one had been. The windows became bigger and the lattice tracery designs more complex. Items of furniture were placed against walls and the odd tapestry had been hung up. Clearly this was part of the more lived in section of the villa. Faintly, the sounds of a kitchen drifted towards Willow as she walked on. Walking in front of the door, she couldn't help but take a quick peek inside.

Inside the room, that put the tavern's kitchen to shame, a number of women dressed in aprons and head scarves rushed around several large wooden tables. The variety of food that was laid out across these tables had Willow's stomach grumbling in appreciation. Huge boughs of herbs hung down from the ceiling in an array of different hues of greens. The walls were lined with numerous shelves which were in turn adored with every sizeable pot and pan imaginable at the time. This was very clearly a very rich and abundant kitchen. After gazing wide-eyed at all the expensive items her kitchen did not possess, the heat from the fires of the room began to cause the burn on Willow's arm to throb. Heaving a sigh and taking one last longing look, she set herself back on course towards the healing rooms.

A few minutes walking on past the kitchen, Willow was pretty sure she had finally found her destination. Down a flight of short steps, a wide corridor led down to some very large and heavy-looking wooden doors, each with an over-sized metal ring glinting in the low light. She was sure they were the doors Elaine had meant. The aura of the passageway did not feel as Willow had thought it would be. With no windows, it was barely lit by a single burning torch that appeared to have just been hung hastily in the far corner by the doors. There was no furniture, only the imposing doorway. Suddenly, in complete contrast to the daunting corridor, the soft sound of a lute being played drifted through the doors to reach Willow's ears. She couldn't help the smile that came to her lips as she recognised the sound of the instrument. Leaping down the steps and making it to the doors, she imagined it was going to be a strain to open them. But the doors were cared for and the hinges well oiled that only with one arm, Willow managed to quietly open them wide enough to reveal the famously fierce Sir Dagonet, of the legendary King Arthur's round table, calmly sitting on a chair, his eyes closed and a happy, peaceful expression on his rugged face. His long powerful legs were crossed over to make a more comfortable playing position as he cheerfully strummed a cheerful tune upon Aiden's old lute.

A girly giggle bubbled up in Willow's at the charming sight. Unfortunately, the noise caught Dagonet's attention and he ceased playing to see the cause of the interruption.

"Oh no! Please keep playing!" Willow asked, sad that she had caused the beautiful music to stop. The tall knight stood up and placed the lute behind the chair he had vacated. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"I don't like to play in front of an audience... I, urm, I'm not capable enough... not like how Aiden was," He replied modestly. His usual confident body language turned timid as he ducked his head and sheepishly scratched his neck. His eyed darted anywhere except Willow, as she took a few steps closer to stand in front of him.

"Nonsense! You sounded great! Clearly Aiden's tutelage helped," She smiled up at him. He finally looked down and answered with a similar smile that reached up to his crinkled clear blue eyes. It was an accomplishment that not many achieved with the usually stoic knight.

"Though your kind words flatter me, I sense that they are not the reason you have come to see me this rainy day," He politely inquired.

"Unfortunately so," Willow said, "I managed to catch my arm on the cauldron as I was finishing the stew in the kitchen." The kind knight took her still wet cloak from her as she gently rolled up the sleeve of her dress to reveal the stretch of tight pink skin on her forearm. Dagonet's brows knotted together as he, with the same gentle dexterity that he had displayed playing the lute, guided her to sit on one of the medical beds. Drawing up a chair next to her, he took Willow's arm between his two enormous palms. He carefully turned her arm from side to side to gauge the size and severity of the burn. Just as Vanora had done, he nodded to himself in silent conclusion of her injuries.

"It is not too burnt. Lavender oil twice a day will help ease the pain and help heal the skin faster. It's a common aliment Barric suffered from, the drunken fool. He was always burning himself cooking in that kitchen, too drunk half the time to see straight!" He got up from the chair and moved to a large alcove in a dark corner of the healing room. The recess in the wall was covered from top to bottom in assorted jars and tubs. Similar to the kitchen, varies herbs appeared stuffed into any affordable space amongst the jars of medication and ointments. Willow let her eyes drift over the alcove and took in the rest of the healing rooms. The afternoons that she had previously spent with Dagonet and Rhiannon, discussing remedies and herbs, had always been held in the family's rented house upon Rhiannon's insistence. She had wanted to teach Dagonet from her own supplies than to waste his that she considered were needed more than her own. Now Willow as able to fully indulge her curiosity of what the healing room were like.

In complete contrast to the hallway outside, the room was light and bright. The walls were pale and light from being sunlit by a series of windows close to the high ceiling. The room smelled pleasantly of linen and fresh air. None of the beds, that covered most of the floor space, were currently occupied. Each was a simple wooden frame with a straw mattress and a clean sheet to keep it all in place. Every bed also had a chair paired with it and each was positioned in neat rows across the uncommonly smooth mosaicked floor. They totalled twelve, Willow counted and she dreaded to imagine the change to the room when they were in use. It seemed so calm and peaceful; she hoped its serenity was never invaded.

"Hmmm... it would seem Barric's last burn used up the last of my supply here. But I know that Lady Gwen has her own personal store, I'll go and ask to borrow some for you," Dagonet spoke as he turned away from searching his supplies.

"Are you sure? I really don't want to be a fuss!" Willow tried to insist. Using the Queen's own personal medicine supply was not a way to keep one's head down.

"Well we cannot have you injured too long. Since you started at the tavern, I haven't seen the fort so peaceful! Clearly your cooking is the reason behind it. The foundation of happy people is well fed stomachs," Dagonet stated, "I shall return with the oil."

And with that, he had left the room and Willow to herself, opening and closing her mouth like a fish with a protest that died on her lips.

"Guess I'll just make myself comfortable..." She said the empty room. Getting up from the bed, she manoeuvred around the beds to take a closer look at Dagonet's supply of medicine, her curiosity getting the better of her.

A loud bang crashed through the quiet of the room as the door was roughly shoved open. Striding into the room, his focus on the blood stained cloth he held against his hand, was the brave Sir Gawain...

* * *

_A/N: So after 2 years of complete writers block, I've finally managed to knuckle down at get back into my long neglected story. I hope it was worth the wait for all of you amazing people who are following this story. I'm sorry for any mistakes or errors, once I finished writing it, I wanted to publish and upload it it as soon as possible to avoid any more procrastination._

_Thank you all for continuing to review and harass me to continue with it, it really has helped me through the break to keep me thinking about the story and that I needed to keep it in mind and eventually finish it. _

_Love to you all!_  
_Pitta x_


End file.
